Irresistable force, meet immovable object
by Baron Bee
Summary: Two years on from Lois' return from the future, and she's made her name with her stories on Superman. But sick of her thwarted relationship with him, she plans to write one final article on the Man of Steel. Sequel to 'The rules of reporting'.
1. Chapter 1

Lois was trying to concentrate on the pastor delivering his sermon over the open grave but instead she was thinking about Clark Kent. Everywhere she went this week, someone wanted to talk to her about him. That very morning the bagel girl had been trying to pry information about his dating life from her as she gave her her change. She'd almost laughed in the poor girl's face, the idea of her and Clark was so far-fetched. For a start, he hadn't dated in over six months. And secondly, she had over fifty piercings, and those were the ones that she could see. The thought of those two locking lips brought out a small smile, which she quickly dropped as she looked down at the coffin.

Thinking about the man who was being buried today was too painful to bear. Though the doctors had pronounced he was terminal six months ago, the final fact of his death was hard to understand. He'd taught her so much about the job, taught her so much about what a true reporter was. And his mind was still sometimes sharp, even when they had upped his medication in the final weeks; she could still see the piercing look that told her she was talking out of her behind emerge from behind the fog.

So when she'd been sitting by his bedside in the hospice on Monday, and she'd been moaning, again, about Smallville, and he had given her that look, she hadn't understood.

"Y…you…" Maurie paused and took a rattling breath. The radiotherapy had damaged his throat but he could still get out short sentences. "Always been wrong."

"Such a sweetheart," she said sarcastically as she ate some of the grapes she'd brought him. "Are you thinking of anything in particular?" Above all, she knew he didn't want her treating him as if he was dying. He wanted the same old routine from her and it was easy to acquiesce, she didn't know how to deal with watching his body fail slowly. She couldn't watch him die, not from the same thing as her Mom. Just being in the hospice was too much reality for her. Sometimes she wondered if she was a bigger coward now than she had been when she was a kid.

The answer was always a yes.

"Kent." His lips jerked into a half-smile. "He was always. Always…" he took a deep breath. "Your biggest story."

Lois looked over to the subject of that mystifying comment. His mouth was pressed into a tight line, his expression thoughtful as he studied the floral tributes gathered around the graveside. He was wearing a black overcoat to keep the rain ruining his suit but he had loaned his umbrella to the middle-aged couple next to him. He'd probably forget to ask for it back and she'd have to share her own with him for the rest of the day. His hair was drenched, and he had to brush it back from his face with one hand.

But that was Smallville all over, little acts of kindness with no thought for himself. He was utterly clueless. He looked over at her as if he felt her gaze on him and smiled.

That smile always messed with her. It was so tender, so gentle, that she didn't know where to look, or what to think. When he smiled that way, it took her back to their brief and disastrous attempt at dating over two years ago. Back then, he had had the power to unravel her completely with one look. He had never realised the kind of effect he had had on her, and she was thankful for that. If things had gone too far, how would they ever have been able to work together as kind-of-friends again?

Now they had the kind of partnership she wouldn't have thought possible. They were a fantastic team, stronger together than they were apart. The stories they had broken in the last 18 months had been some of the biggest in the country, let alone Metropolis. Maybe once she had daydreamed he was the man to make her romantic fantasies come true, but now she saw he was the person who could help make her professional dreams a reality.

Then there had been Theresa. Theresa had called her yesterday because she was visiting friends in the States before flying back to Geneva. Theresa was not only a brilliant, beautiful woman who had dedicated her life to working on vaccine delivery for the U.N., she was also one of Smallville's exes.

Initially Lois had hated Terry. She was brusque, opinionated and talked to Clark like he was a complete idiot. But he had seemed keen that the two women spend some time together and she didn't have it in her heart to refuse a serious request from her best friend. Hanging out in bars and restaurants with her while Clark disappeared to return a late DVD rental or pick up his dry-cleaning, she discovered she rather liked the woman. She had flipped out at Smallville when he had broken up with her and immediately called Terry to reassure her that her idiot partner was only suffering a brief meltdown and would come to his senses imminently. He hadn't, and Clark had led one of the best things to happen to him since he got off the farm walk out of his life.

But the two women had kept in touch and Lois had been pleased to catch up with her over cocktails. But towards the end of the evening, she had said something completely off the wall to the reporter.

"I think Clark is the biggest liar I ever met."

But then for such an ordinary guy, he could sometimes evoke the strangest reactions.

Like that man who had been writing to her every week for three months. At first he'd been writing to tell her he had finally cracked the secret of the grassy knoll. Then he'd started saying he knew how Dark Thursday had happened, and why the Freemasons were incontrovertibly behind it all. But in the last two weeks he'd been dropping strange hints about Clark. Talking about his 'secret' and how he wasn't who she thought he was.

Lois had laughed and held up the latest letter but Clark had just pushed his glasses up his nose and peered more closely at the letter. He had frowned.

"Well? Can you believe this guy? What's he going to come up with next?"

"I think this is my fault." Clark sighed and rubbed his jaw. He had been tired this week, running all over town trying to find a pattern in a series of apparently random killings. "I went to see him a few days ago."

"What?"

"I was worried about his fixation with you Lois," he said seriously. Lois laughed.

"Are you kidding? I hate to say it Smallville, but this is the tamest kind of letter I get. Now if you want to see my dangerous crazies file, you're more than welcome. But this guy is totally harmless. For a start he didn't send me a picture of himself in the raw and he didn't write in his own blood, so he's not got any of my red flags." She paused and tapped her pen on her notebook, using one of her many tactics to annoy him and disrupt his usually calm exterior. She knew she shouldn't enjoy winding him up so much but it was a habit she was unable to give up. Maybe it wasn't the most adult behaviour but she'd been tormenting the guy since he was shovelling cow dung in his plaid shirts, some things were too much fun to grow out of. "What's going on?"

"It's these murders Lois. They have something to do with Superman and you know it."

"No, we suspect it, we don't know it."

"I know it," he affirmed. "And you are a very visible target when it comes to him." Lois rolled her eyes and groaned at him. They had had this discussion so many times that it stopped being an argument and was reduced to an endless rehashing of the same stale points. He thought she was at risk by being Superman's favourite reporter. She thought he was being a mother hen. He said that whilst Superman was almost invulnerable, she had proved not to be. She said, no one had managed to kill her yet. That always shut him up because he would look anguished and she would change the subject. She'd had some close calls over the years, especially the day she had broken up with him. Neither of them wanted to be reminded of that day. She had concreted over that painful time like it had never happened.

The conspiracy nut had sent her three letters today. All with the same message printed in big black letters. CLARK KENT HAS A SECRET. Well, fair enough, maybe he did, but not anything for the front page. Whatever secrets Smallville had, they were the kind every man on the street had. She had long ago abandoned the illusion that he had some skeleton in his closet. The only mystery about him was why he hadn't settled down with any of the perfectly acceptable women who crossed his path. She'd even tried to set him up, which has always been an unequivocal disaster.

But then being single and a reporter wasn't so unusual. She was single. Maurie had been divorced. Maybe she and Clark would end up like Maurie, one hell of a scrapbook of stories, and only a handful of meaningful relationships. Once the idea would have horrified her but now she was beginning to accept it might be inevitable. Her career left so little time for a personal life, and the latest casualty to her job, sweet, decent, totally hot stock broker Jake Valasquez was just another sacrifice she had made. In the end, if it had been a choice between covering a story on Superman saving the lives of a dozen miners trapped in a cave-in in Kentucky, or attending his parent's silver wedding anniversary dinner, the choice had been disturbingly easy.

Maurie understood that. So did Clark. But now Maurie was gone, and maybe someday, Clark would do the sensible thing and marry a paediatrician or a teacher with big brown eyes and a strong urge to bear him a whole clan of little Kents. If he could get through the first date without running off to check his oven was off.

Funeral proceedings were beginning to wind up and several people stepped forward to drop earth on top of the coffin. Lois pulled out the packet of cigarettes from her pocket and let them fall from her hand. She saw a few disgusted glances thrown her away but she ignored them. It was pretty tasteless given his smoking had probably contributed significantly to his death but he'd asked her for this favour before he'd died and she wasn't about to refuse him that small favour. He'd wanted to take at least one of his vices with him he'd said, and a bottle of Jacks would have been a waste. Maurie really had been a one-off.

As everyone began to disperse back to their cars, she exchanged a few nods with colleagues and gave a quick wave to Perry. Clark came up beside her and she covered his head with her umbrella.

"He ask for the cigarettes?" Clark smiled. Lois nodded. His smile faded and he touched her arm gently. "He was very proud of you, you know."

Lois found herself unexpectedly welling up. She thought she wouldn't shed a tear today but somehow Smallville managed to unlock the grief waiting in the wings. She swallowed hard.

"You think?" She wanted to say something breezy and light but she hadn't been able to get it out.

"I know," and he looked at her with an intensity he rarely employed. "My Dad used to talk about you the same way." God, he really was trying to make her cry. She brushed her eyes quickly and then looked back at him.

"Thank you Clark." The breeze picked up and the rain started to come in under their cover. She could almost see Jimmy's grave from here and suddenly she needed to get away from this place. "How about I drive us back? You came in a taxi right?"

"That would be good, thanks." They walked in silence further down the main access road until they reached her car, Clark offering to drive. She considered one of her usual responses to his offer to drive but decided to acquiesce. She didn't want to have to concentrate on anything right now, and Smallville's old lady driving would give her time to collect herself before getting back to the office. Once they were settled in the car, Clark turned on the radio to a quiet background hum. When they were in the car together they usually listened to the news, just to make sure there wasn't something unfolding they needed to respond to urgently. The newscaster was going over local news, and running through the facts about the latest body found that seemed to be the work of the same killer or killers. Police were refusing to confirm a serial killer was at work and would only admit they were investigating 'several avenues'.

Clark hadn't spoken about the most recent death yet but he'd been following the murders from the beginning. Usually he stayed away from Superman-related stories but as she'd been out of the office a lot visiting Maurie, Perry had assigned him to the story.

She glanced over at him as he calmly navigated his way through traffic that usually had her cursing the driver's mothers. With his hair swept away from face and his keen eyes focussed on the road, he suddenly reminded her very strongly of someone. She frowned as she tried to work out who it was, and finally concluded it had to be Jonathan Kent. It wasn't until the weatherman finished his predictions for the weekend that she realised Clark took after his father in many ways not not in his looks. How could she have forgotten he was adopted?

She yawned and closed her eyes.

Just like Superman had been adopted. After all these years, she had finally found something that the two men had in commonl.

And with that thought, she fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Clark liked to tease her about it, but Lois thought it was important to have a deathwish list. This was a table of the special individuals who had incurred her wrath and who she wasn't allowed to take down through the written word. Mainly because they had only lost her favourite blouse at the dry cleaners or had cut her up in traffic. But, _apparently_, it wasn't appropriate to defame these people in print, so she added them to her list. Then she could construct unrealisable but consoling revenge fantasies.

Unable to concentrate on her work after that morning's ceremony, she was scanning the rest of the office floor to see if anything interesting was happening. When Cat Grant caught her eye, doing something that meant she made a splashy new entry right at the top of her table.

Cat could be irritating for a number of reasons. Being the Planet's blonde, perky and leggy gossip columnist were establishing grounds. And the fact the two spent most of their conversations making barbed comments about the merits of each other's reporting talents or wardrobes didn't help.

But no, Cat was now top of the table because she was currently sinking her claws into Clark like he was a ball of yarn. She had him pinned against a desk and was running her hands over his tie, the one she had helped him buy, and laughing every time he mumbled something vaguely coherent. She was only moments away from patting him down like he was a prisoner concealing contraband.

Clark didn't appear to be enjoying the experience but then maybe he wasn't that keen to escape her clutches. After all this time, she no longer had a clue what he looked for in a woman. He hadn't seemed able to commit to anyone his adult life, even poor Shelby was victim of his no-show problem. Sometimes she was certain Clark forgot to feed that dog.

Then Kent looked over at her and mouthed 'help me'. She mimed back 'who me?' and watched in amusement as he tried his hardest to glare at her. He truly believed that expression was forbidding. Adorably deluded. She sighed. The demands of friendship meant she had to help her partner out so she got up and walked over to the two of them.

"Hi Cat. Sorry to intrude but I just thought I'd save you some trouble. Though I thought a woman of your considerable experience would know better. You're wasting your time with him." Cat didn't seem bothered by Lois' appearance, which confirmed that either she had an ego the size of Mars, or she wasn't that keen on Clark.

"Oh. It's you. Don't you have a Superman sighting to follow up?" Lois didn't respond so Cat dropped Clark's tie and frowned at her. "I was just having a private chat with Clark. You know, he really needs the company of a civilised woman after listening to your nagging day in, day out." That comment seemed to confirm it, she was just amusing herself by torturing poor Kent and annoying the hell out of her as a bonus.

"And I'm telling you, as a favour, Smallville is not worth it."

"I disagree," Cat smiled smugly as she ran a manicured nail over Clark's chest.

"You don't think I call him Smallville because of the town do you?" Lois had the immense satisfaction of seeing Clark's jaw drop at the same moment Cat's eyes widened with shock. "Oh you did! How sweet. Let's just say it's the final nail in the coffin for that big hands theory. Now come on Kent, we've got a press conference to go to." She grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the elevator, ignoring his spluttering indignation. "It's okay, you can thank me in the car."

"Lois..."

"You wanted that harpy off your back didn't you?" She fixed him with a steely glare as he stared back, equally annoyed. "Or didn't you?"

"She's not that bad."

"Is that why you were sending up the distress flare? Face it Smallville, you don't know how to handle a woman who knows what she wants." Terry was the perfect example of that. Ambitious, driven, and totally into him. He had promptly run for the hills.

"I'm not a teenage boy anymore Lois." He was holding her arm she realised and using the firm tone of voice that belonged to that Other Clark Kent. The one who had had a claim to her heart a long time ago. So maybe it still had a little effect on her but she was human. Though he acted like a klutz a lot of the time, he could turn on the charm if he wanted to. And not the big puppy eyes act, the one where he seemed to radiate an intensity that you would never have expected lurked under that good-natured exterior.

She was lucky he hadn't used that on her too much when they'd been dating, or she'd have done a few things she would have regretted now. Though the memories might have been fun.

"Oh yeah? So when was the last time you manned up and kicked the shy high school persona to the kerb? You might as well still be sitting in your barn playing with your telescope, waiting for a woman to take the initiative and throw herself in your arms."

"Just because you're going out with Jake, doesn't make you Dr Phil." Lois narrowed her eyes at him. She hadn't told him about breaking up with Jake yet, and suddenly she didn't want to. Clark was always very supportive when her heart had taken a mauling but right now, seeming like she was as terminally lovelorn as him would undermine her very valid point about him totally sucking.

"Even if I wasn't with Jake, I still kick your ass when it comes to relationships. Hell, I could get hitched by the end of the month if I really wanted."

"I'd like to see that,"" he scoffed. Usually this kind of banter wasn't painful. The two of them had developed thick skins over the years of working together. But right now, hearing she was totally un-weddable from her closest friend was a kick in the teeth. Cat had just been knocked from her perch on the list, and Kent was making an uncharacteristic high entry.

"And I'd like to see you try and talk to a half-attractive woman without shooting yourself in the foot." They were now standing in the foyer of the building, and Lois was half-conscious that she was really raising her voice at her partner. That wasn't so unusual but the feeling she was about to burst into tears was. She needed to get out of here.

"Whatever."

"Great, use that patter and that barista you like will be putty in your hands in, hmmm, five centuries or so?"

"For the last time. I. Do. Not. Like. The. Coffee. Girl!"

"Everyone likes the coffee girl Clark, she's a caffinated Lana Lang."

"Caffinated Lana?" Clark frowned.

"Lana is so diet coke it's unreal."

They fell into silence, both studying the sidewalk outside with keen interest.

"I guess that makes you Dr Pepper," Clark said thoughtfully.

"Huh?"

"I always liked Dr Pepper."

"Oh." And they were silent once more.

"Let's go get a drink."

"What about the press conference?"

"Lois, you made that up to get me out of there."

"Oh yeah." He put his arm round her shoulder and she found herself leaning into his comforting presence.

"Come on. Let's go mark Maurie in a way he would really have appreciated. With alcohol."

* * *

Lois stumbled into her apartment later than night, more than a little inebriated. That was the problem with drinking with Smallville, she was prepared to let her guard down around him, and he could put them away with almost zero affect. She'd seen marines with less tolerance for booze.

That was his secret super-power she realised, as she dropped her keys on the table and played back her answerphone messages. He had a Man-of-Steel-stomach. Had some pretty cute abs too.

She listened to the first two messages, one from Chloe, one from Lucy. Then she heard the third. From Jake. He sounded like he'd been drinking too.

"Listen Lois, it's me. I've been thinking about this and you should reconsider. I know you said this had nothing to do with the cape but I think, no, I know, different. Everyone warned me that you were so…clearly in love with that overgrown Boy Scout but I said no, no, that's just her job. But you really mean it! You're…" The message cut off and she drew in a sharp breath. She didn't feel drunk anymore. In fact she felt horribly sober.

Then the next message came on. "…don't know what happened. Anyway, what I was trying to say was, I get why you slept with him. Your night with Superman." Lois cursed under her breath. Though the title of that feature had been intentionally mischievous, she had thought the plain facts in the piece would have spoken for themselves. She had never had that kind of relationship with him, even if she might have wanted to. She should have known better, especially with her tabloid experience. Now plenty of people thought she was hot for aliens. She had stopped showing Clark some of the gifts from her 'alien paramours', he'd freaked out too much. He'd been raised on a farm true, but this was not stuff you'd see in the barnyard.

The fact Jake had turned out to be one of those idiots made her feel a lot better about dumping him.

"He turned your head, I know that now! That's why you're all about the Superman articles!" She clicked her tongue in disgust as she pulled off her shoes. She shouldn't still be listening to this message but she was feeling masochistic. He was making out that she was only known for one thing; superheroes. Like she was the go-to-girl for that.

Sure, Perry usually went to her with the big stories but then that's because she had the background knowledge. She had the professional relationship with him. And even if she'd made her name covering his emergence, she'd done other pieces since that could be considered just as big. She and Clark had worked themselves into the ground doing good investigative work and they had the front pages and the respect to prove it.

As if she needed to prove anything to this guy! He was yesterday's news! She walked towards her kitchen, catching sight of the front page the General had framed for her for Christmas. It was the first story, the beginning of it all. Although of course, the story had started long before that, with the blur. Her father had been so proud of that piece though, and because of that she had been happy to have it on her wall, even though it felt a little tacky.

And when Superman first gently set her down on the sidewalk, looked deep into her eyes and asked if she was okay, it had felt like the start of something magical. Of course millions of people felt that way about him but it had always felt like something more between them. Something different.

"…but it's not real Lois, and you know it! If you would just think about it, you'd see, I am the guy for you okay? I'm crazy about you. That guy is just using you because…" She hit the delete button with undue force and dared the machine to produce another message from that fool. It obediently stayed quiet.

He was wrong anyway. What was between them wasn't exactly conventional but she knew he felt something for her. Sometimes he seemed about to say something huge to her, to unburden himself of all his unsaid words. Didn't he hold her a little too close when they flew together? Hadn't he always been there when she really, really needed her?

Of course he wasn't going to take her to the movies or a monster-truck rally. Only Clark had ever taken her to see the monster trucks, and well, he was an ordinary guy. Ordinary for someone raised among the animals anyway. So he couldn't exactly hang up his cape and come for a picnic in the park with her, but so what? And if he couldn't hang out with her friends, then it would just be the two of them. And what if he probably couldn't even have children? Nasty, puking, squalling rug rats weren't her style. She could just pour all her energies into her career. That was her real legacy.

She knew he would never be there for her first. Maybe once she hadn't been able to handle that idea. When it was Ollie…it had been different somehow. She couldn't put her finger on what it was but Superman was the kind of man who made you rip up the rule-book. You had to make sacrifices to be with a man like that.

She sighed and dropped onto her couch. Her eyes caught sight of the only picture she had left from when she and Clark had been dating. It was a pretty innocuous pose, so it hadn't been too uncomfortable leaving it out after they'd broken up. He had been sitting on her desk in the bullpen and she was looking up at him, a look on her face she could scarcely believe anymore. It would look like a mixture of annoyance and amusement to anyone else but she could decode the expression on her face. That face said: I am head over heels with this guy. She felt herself well up suddenly. Clark had burned her badly but one thing he had done right; he had kissed her like he meant it. He had kissed her like she was the only woman, period.

Whereas, _he_, had only ever tried to kiss her once. And that had not been a happy scene. She had immediately backed away from him. He hadn't known that she had only broken up with Clark the week before but he had looked so regretful, so guilty afterwards, that she wasn't that surprised he had never tried again. Maybe he thought it was improper. Maybe he thought it could never go anywhere.

Maybe she was just too human. Maybe there was nothing real there at all.

He was an alien, she was a reporter who had built her career around him. She was useful. Hadn't the Legion said she was a legend? Because of her connection to him. She was the extra in the great Superman biopic. She basked in his reflected glory.

Her thoughts were spiralling further downwards, and her emotions with them. She had always known what it was going to be, was she just kidding herself?

"No," she said out loud. She got up off the couch and headed towards the bathroom. She needed a scalding hot shower to shake her out of this maudlin pity-fest. Maurie had only been buried today, it was no wonder that she was letting things like a whiny ex get to her. Besides, the whole point that she wasn't in any kind of actual relationship with Superman. So why was she agonising over it? There was nothing concrete. He was just a story, not _the_ story. What did she care how her name was recorded in a far-off future. At least she'd made the record, that was pretty impressive for an army brat. Besides, why would she want to be remembered for who she'd dated? Then all the snickering asides would be true and she would just be a superhero groupie.

She didn't want to be Superman plus one. She wanted to be Lois Lane.

After showering and changing she felt recovered. Alcohol and grief were not a healthy combination, she should have known better. Wanting some fresh air, she wandered out onto her terrace. Though Metropolis was never peaceful, high up from the street she could almost believe that the city was asleep. And she was high above it all. Of course when she was flying…

She stopped that thought dead. She was not thinking about him, not anymore. She let out a deep breath and let the sounds around her wash over her. If she could just tune out the day and let it all slip away, then she'd be fine again.

That's when she heard the gentle swoosh that heralded his arrival. Looking up at him she found a smile spring to her lips. Taking it all in tiny pieces. The dazzling suit that should be ridiculous but was somehow inspiring. The proud shield he wore on his chest, a symbol of a dead civilisation. His firm jaw, the strong cheekbones, the deep dark colour of his hair, and above all, those eyes. The eyes that had made her feel like her whole body had been unzipped the first time she looked into them.

In that instant she recalled all her denials earlier and realised how empty they were. She was in love with him. No kind of in love, or might be in love, or could be in love with if the whole thing ever got off the ground. Unequivocally in love. There was no rationalising it away. She'd avoided putting it into words for a long time, only letting it creep in when she was daydreaming but tonight, for some reason, her self-deception had crumbled. It was absurd to think that it had weathered all the innuendo and the jokes, the accusations from jealous guys, and all it had taken to bring down the whole edifice was a funeral, a lot of alcohol, and one nasty phone message.

The realisation didn't feel like a relief, in fact she felt sick with fear and dismay. Though the sight of him still made a part of her believe it could be possible. Surely all things were possible with him. Wasn't that how she had sustained this fantasy with him for so long?

But his face showed none of the same desperate emotions that rose up inside her. It was going to be business. He wasn't here to talk about her day or hold her as she talked about losing Maurie.

But that was fine. They both had careers that were bigger than them, and the lives he saved came first. Business was the priority. Maybe there would never be anything real betwen them and she would write stories about him until the day she died, nothing but a footnote to his life. He couldn't offer her the things she wanted, but wants were easy to deal with. She'd wanted Clark once hadn't she? Wanted all of his heart with all of her own. Now the two of them could work alongside each other as if the whole fiasco had never happened. Wants were childish things, things you could put away and forget about. She had done without more from him for this long, so she didn't need him. A girl didn't need monster trucks.

She felt the smile on her face waver, and almost crumble.

She just really, really, really loved monster trucks.


	3. Chapter 3

Clark landed on Lois' terrace wearily. Most nights coming here was a relief but tonight it didn't feel like a port in storm. It felt like he was standing in the eye of a tornado, and in a few moments, the wind would change direction and the full terrible force would sweep him up.

She was waiting in the wicker chair, her feet curled under her. She had changed into sweats and a Daily Planet T-shirt. Though she wasn't going to face up to it for a while, Maurie's death was already hitting her hard. Normally she avoided meeting him in anything less than her work clothes and she rarely sat down when they spoke. Usually him disturbing her in a relaxed moment like this would have flustered her. Tonight she didn't seem worried about being on an equal footing.

She lifted her head and smiled.

"Hey Superman, I didn't expect to see you tonight." The weariness and tears were easy enough to detect but he couldn't reach out and stroke her hair, or rest her head on his shoulder, no matter how his hands ached to do that. Superman couldn't rub a woman's feet, he wouldn't even have a prosaic impulse like that. So though he suspected the idea would appeal to Lois, she was the reason he could never do that.

Some days, he really hated that first article she had written. It was some of her finest work; that was true. But it was also about a person he didn't even recognise. This alien who descended from the skies one night and awed a young reporter with his incredible power. Lois Lane had never been awed by Clark Kent. But she was bedazzled by Superman. Maybe it was uncharitable for him to think that way but on nights when he desperately wanted to be with her it was hard not to resent the person that came between him. The last son of Krypton.

As Chloe was fond of pointing out, he was definitely going to be the last if he couldn't find some way out of the hole he had dug himself into.

"Lois, I'm sorry about your friend. I read the obituary." Lois nodded, ducking her head a little. "He sounded like a great reporter."

"He was the best," she sighed and finally stood up. She wandered over to her fading collection of pot plants and half-heartedly watered them. "I think I know why you're here."

"You do?"

"Now Maurie's dead, I'm the best," she laughed bitterly. "Maybe joint," she amended. Clark smiled slightly, she could be pretty charitable to his feelings when she didn't realise he was around. Assuming that she was ranking him alongside her. Assuming anything with Lois was a risky business. "There's been another murder, hasn't there?" She asked gravely and he assented. "What happened?"

"With your permission, I'd like to show you something." He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. Chloe had asked him how it was possible for a person to be jealous of themselves and here was the answer. The way she trusted him with no questions when he was wearing this costume, and yet entertained doubts about him when he was wearing anything else. It didn't matter that he was to blame for all that, it didn't matter that he was both Superman and Clark Kent. All that implied his response had rationality at its heart. But there wasn't anything logical about how she made him feel when she looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes, and said to him,

"Let's go flying." He nodded and began to lift her into his arms before she stopped him. "Shoes, Superman? A reporter needs to look after her feet." He smiled at her as she ran back into her apartment for a pair of sneakers and hopped back out, trying to tie her laces as she moved. Was it strange that he liked this side of her almost the best?

Ten minutes later, he was still holding her in his arms. They were hovering above the edge of the building overlooking the employee parking lot of a supermarket. He told her he didn't want to disturb any possible evidence on the roof but part of him just wanted to keep her close by him for a few illicit moments. Flying with Lois could be an entirely innocent event, since she took such pure joy in the experience it was hard not to feel that too. But often, feeling her fingers curled around his arm and her body moulded against his, it felt like something quite different. It was one of the only ways he still had left that he could touch her and he wasn't about to give it up for the sake of decorum.

"So….some of us don't have super-eyes? What am I supposed to be seeing?" Lois was peering down at the lot, watching the cops scour every inch of the ground, interview staff, take photos of the body.

"He was chloroformed to subdue him and then he was stabbed in the heart. His name is George Philips. This is where he buys his snacks when he's working late."

"Okay, still not getting it."

"They covered the message before we arrived. It was sprayed beside him on the tarmac. It said 'He is the only son'."

"Suggestive but not conclusive."

"Lois, I know what was written at the other scenes. The first said, 'He will deliver us'. The second said 'He was sent to us'. The third said 'He is watching over us'. Now this."

"Superman, all due respect, but your ego has to be pretty big to assume they're talking about you. It's obviously religious."

"The victim at the second scene was wearing an inverted 'S' shield t-shirt." Lois shrugged.

"So what? Some kids like wearing them, it's just empty posturing. Clark hasn't found anything solid yet and he knows how to dig around."

"I knew the first victim Lois," he said softly. She studied his face and he tried to maintain an inscrutable expression. It drove her nuts, which sometimes gave him a kick. Tonight, wasn't one of those nights."And you know George Philips." Lois craned her neck as if a few inches would give her a clear view of the man's face, already obscured by crime technicians.

"Drawing a huge blank."

"He writes a blog you've reported on before. 'How to kill Superman'?" Lois drew in her breath sharply.

"That bastard?" Lois wasn't about to pull her punches because the man was dead. He had rarely seen her as angry as when she locked horns in print with the anonymous blogger. Philips was behind posts that speculated on how Superman could be murdered. All harmless hypothesising and the author was in no way suggesting anyone should break the law. But it didn't take long to find links to other, less coy sites, that suggested Superman was variously the first wave of an alien invasion, a tool of the federal government, or a threat to free market economics, and was therefore public enemy number one, no matter how many old ladies he saved from being hit by buses. Lois had often railed against the D.A. for refusing to prosecute the writer but Clark was aware any move against the man would be interpreted as an act against free speech. Chloe had promised to keep an eye on the site in case any of the posts looked like they might hit on an effective method but as yet, the wider public was unaware of Kryptonite. He hoped to keep it that way. Now Philips represented an entirely different threat.

"He wasn't my favourite person either Lois but he didn't deserve to be murdered like this. Whoever is behind these killings has an agenda, and it seems to be tied into me, or the person they think I am. These messages have disturbingly messianic overtones and that worries me a great deal." He sighed and moved them away from the crime-scene to a roof further away. He reluctantly set her down and crossed his arms over his chest. Discussing his problems with Lois, whether he was doing it in a coded way as her work colleague, or more directly as Superman, also helped him clarify his thoughts. She cut through the bullshit better than anyone he knew, and few people were prepared to when speaking to his costumed self. "I've always had people fixating on what they assume are my dangerous intentions. I'm never going to be able to persuade some people that I mean no harm to this planet. But people believing I'm some…some…"

"God?" He looked at her sharply. "Come on, did you really think this was so unlikely?" Her tone was disbelieving. "You don't seem to have any limits. You save lives. You save cities! And you were sent to Earth by your father to save us all? It's not much of a reach."

"I never encouraged this," he said uneasily. Hearing Lois say those things unnerved him. Of all people, she should be able to see how absurd this was. But then she wasn't looking at Smallville, she was looking at Superman. "You know that, don't you?" He felt desperate suddenly. Maybe she would never see the man he really was when he wore this shield but he couldn't bear it if she saw some second coming instead.

"Of course I know that."

"Good," he sighed. "That's good." They were both silent for a moment, studying each other in the dim glow coming from the street lights below. The curve of her jaw was a mere shadow in this darkness so the urge to explore it was even stronger. The feeling threatened to overwhelm him so he tuned into his hearing, letting his attention be diffused by the sounds all around him. Once his self-control was firmly back in place, he could go back to being Superman. He had learned a long time ago that people demanded an aura of complete control and confidence to go with his abilities. After all, if he didn't seem like he knew what to do with his strength, then how they could trust him to use it wisely. He could afford few shows of weakness, although around her it was tempting to drop the performance. He needed to get out of here before his unsteady reactions tripped him up.

Watching Lois suffering was always difficult but in the last few weeks she had seemed to be sliding further and further away from herself. When Cat had made one of customary jokes about Superman stories earlier that day, he had actually seen her hands jerk into involuntary fists. Drinking with her at Maurie's favourite bar had seemed to take some of the edge off her rage but he knew it wasn't going away quickly. She was angry with everyone for Maurie dying. The world, herself, even Maurie. Not many people knew how much time she had spent at his bedside in the hospital and then the hospice. Lois let few people see her vulnerable side, or the depths of her loyalty. Only a handful of people would be aware that her mentor had died of the same disease that had taken the life of her mother.

He needed to get this over and done with so he could stop being Superman and be a man who could offer her some meagre comfort.

"You're going to want to ignore me Miss Lane but I'm asking you let your colleague investigate these killings. Until I know more about the motivations behind this, I have to assume that people who are connected to my name in some way are at risk, however remote."

"I'm not a critic though," Lois said, affronted. "I'm your biggest cheerleader!" She blushed a little and looked at the skyline. "Print-wise. It's good for my career."

"Exactly, you're publicly aligned with me. But this person thinks they're in my corner. They may not feel there's room for both of you."

"I got there first," she muttered. "And I'm not going to avoid reporting on one of the biggest stories in this city just because there might be some armed fanatic running around." He almost groaned out loud. He knew that appealing to her instinct for self-preservation was foolhardy.

"Lois, this is far more serious than one fixated individual. This person knows a lot more than a simple fan with press clippings. They were able to discover that Philips was behind the blog; not an easy thing to do. And it's possible they knew who the first victim was, and how he was connected to me."

"Yeah, are you going to elaborate on that?" He stared at her. "Guess that's a no. Are you telling me I shouldn't look at that? Because even if I wasn't going to be the one to chase it down, I would tell Clark. I'm a reporter, not your priest."

"I can't forbid you from doing anything Lois, I know you better than that. I can only ask. But what you find might be not something I'd want to see in print."

"Are you asking me not to look at the first victim?" Clark looked at her. If he said yes, she would anyway and would be angry with him, even if she decided she shouldn't publish it. But if he said no, then he would be signalling that he wasn't reluctant to have her delving into his life and that he trusted her with his secrets. Was he really comfortable with her discovering a connection between him and Belle Reeve? Even if she found something, would she accept what she found? What were the limits of the shield?

But he had already made the decision when he had first admitted he knew the dead man. If he was generous to himself, it was because she might be the best chance he had of discovering who was behind these murders. But deep down, hadn't he told her because he wanted her to know? He wanted her to find out. He wanted her to know everything.

He walked closer to her and studied her face. Was he really that desperate? Had the loneliness finally sapped him of his sense? Giving Lois any further clues would bring her closer to the truth but it would also bring her closer to the killer. It was an utterly selfish decision.

"Forgive me."

"What for?" She said quietly.

"I told myself I was bringing you here to warn you. But I wasn't. I know how you work Miss Lane. I know this is all going to make you want to chase this story even harder. And I want you to find out who's behind this, because you are the best. But the truth puts you at risk. Your safety should come first." As he spoke, he saw her mood rapidly shift from subdued to furious. As he finished, she jabbed a finger at his chest and retorted,

"You really think that without your tip-offs I wouldn't be able to find out anything by myself? Take responsibility for the lives of every Metropolis citizen if you want, but don't take responsibility for my ability to do my job!" Now he had absolutely incensed her and he could see her point. It wasn't that he thought she wouldn't be able to find out about Belle Reeve herself, it was that he had steered her in that direction for self-serving reasons. "You think I'm some naïf, wandering through our meetings with too many stars in my eyes to notice you're using me?"

"Using you?" He said with shock.

"Of course you are! 'My night with Superman', 'Why the world needs Superman', Superman, Superman, Superman! And it's helped me make my name far earlier than I might have done without you. But you think I don't see what this is?"

"What 'this' are you talking about?"

"Visiting me on my balcony at night. Flying me around town in your arms. Talking about your belief in truth, justice, the American way! I'm your biggest cheerleader," she said bitterly, "and you're the star quarterback. I'm practically your press agent! I make _you_ look good. I always have, right from when you were blurring around town rescuing kittens out of trees." She laughed wildly. "All this time, I told myself that you picked me because I was the best. But I'm not! I make it into the pages of history because I was easily manipulated!"

"Lois, that's not…that's not…" He stared at her with horror. Is that what she really thought? That he came to her because he could exploit her romantic feelings towards him for the right kind of media coverage? "Do you really believe that?"

"What else can I think Superman," she sighed, turning her body away from him, her anger deflating rapidly. "When you turned up tonight, I was thinking…I was hoping…" There was a hitch in her breath and he realised she was crying. "I buried a man I looked up to today. When you landed on the roof I almost hoped that you'd come to talk to me about him. About a friend who I loved. Did you know he died just like my mother? Do you know I had a mother? Do you even know her name?"

He wanted to say her name, it was almost on his lips. But he held back.

"But it was just business you'd come for, and that was fine. I know the score there. Then you pretend to be horrified that you're using me to help you. And you insult my abilities. You patronise me. This is never going to anything other than this, is it? Meeting on rooftops to talk about a dead body." She turned her face and wiped away her tears brusquely.

"No," he said firmly. "You're wrong." This was all wrong, all of it. He had said all the wrong things. He hadn't known she felt like this. He thought she was okay with the terms of their relationship. But this was all too familiar. He had been here before, the night she had broken up with him. Then he had believed that he could give her only the bare minimum and that she would be content. The arrogance of it astounded him. He might be able to live with these scraps of something real but she still had dreams of something better. Love with a whole man, not one split down the middle. "You're wrong," he added desperately.

But he had tried before to hold on to her, even as she slipped out of his reach. The night he had come to see her in the hospital, thanking his lucky stars that she had survived her ordeal in one whole piece. It had been the first time he had to risk her safety for the sake of the city and so many times he had almost left Metropolis to its fate so he could go to her side.

He had consoled himself that this time, at least, he had managed to get away with it.

But he hadn't known then what he knew now. That night he hadn't got away with it. He had gambled with her life but he had also staked her heart without realising.

And he had lost it.


	4. Chapter 4

She had been sitting on the hospital bed when he arrived. One whole side of her face was a swollen bruise. The eye makeup still carefully applied to her undamaged eye was now almost rubbed away. She had been wearing a new dress, he could see the tattered remains of it by the bedside. She must have asked the hospital staff to keep it rather than throwing it away. It looked shredded now but he could see the tag wasn't in it. She hadn't been planning on returning it. This one had been for keeps.

She had said nothing for ten minutes, and he had thought she was still in shock from the day's events but later he had realised she was building into an icy rage that he had never experienced before. He had felt nervous, though he didn't know why, so he had talked at length about the disaster and the police's response. He had mentioned Perry's demands for a full run-down on her story as soon as she was fit to dictate a story. Her hands were still too shaky to hold a pen. But when she had finally spoken, she had asked him something completely unexpected.

"Were you with Lana?" His old girlfriend had returned to the city a few days ago, her deadly load of Kryptonite finally removed and tentative hopes that he might still be available. But one glimpse of Clark with Lois had put an end to that. Lana had smiled at him and told him she had told him so.

But then, so had a lot of people. He had never listened in time. Chloe had warned him that this was coming but he had genuinely thought that he could hold this together. Lois and him were different. It was all different this time.

"Lana? No."

"Because I was thinking the whole time I was locked in there that there's where you must be. And I would understand Clark. I would get Lana. So, tell me the truth. When you didn't turn up last night, when you promised me you would be there, when you ignored all those calls I made to get you to come help me, were you with Lana?" And he had felt his nervousness become full panic. Whatever she was thinking, it was something far more serious that he had guessed. But to think he would have stood her up for Lana was insane. Didn't she know now that she was the only one for him? Couldn't she see how he felt?

"I wasn't with Lana," he affirmed. She smiled humourlessly.

"Then tell me, where were you? Where were you when I needed you?"

"I…" And he hadn't been able to say because he had been flying over Metropolis, trying to stop the Toyman blowing up subway trains filled with commuters. "I can't say. But I wasn't with Lana." Lois had laughed.

"Then that's too bad. Because I would have understood Lana. You've loved her your whole life. She's beautiful, she's kind, she's sweet. She's all the safe, gentle things I'll never be. I'd have understood Lana. But not anything else."

"I'm so sorry Lois but I couldn't be there. I was chasing this Toyman story and…I didn't know. I didn't know you were in that vault. If I'd known…"

"It's not about that Clark. Do you think I'm angry with Superman because he didn't save me sooner? He was out saving the city, doing his job." She fixed him with a stony glare. "And so were you. But I will never come first with him, and I'd never, ever ask him to. He belongs to the world, not me. But you…you were supposed to be mine," and her voice broke on the last word. "You were supposed to pick me first. You were supposed to love me."

"I do!"

"No!" She shook her head violently. "Ever since he came along, you've been jealous of Superman, even through you haven't said it. You think that I want some hero who's going to save my life every time someone tries to throw me off a building? I wanted someone who was going to be there, to hold my hand. He could never give me that. I thought you could. But you're never going to change. I'm not reason enough for you to do that."

"That's not true, you don't know how much you've already changed me!"

"I've changed. I used to believe that we could be more than friends but I don't anymore. As a friend, I didn't expect you to be there when I turned around. I should never have let this happen. It was a mistake." He had grasped her hand then, forgetting the bandage around it.

"Please don't do this."

"It's done," she said sadly. "You were a great friend Clark. One day I hope we can be again. But you can't love me, not in the way I need you to. Now let me go. You're hurting me." He had released her hand and she had held it protectively against her chest.

He hadn't fought her for the survival of their fledgling relationship. Instead they had become friends again after several incredibly uncomfortable months. Now they knew where the lines were drawn the tension was gone and they were a tighter, stronger team. He even felt like he had been unable to close off his feelings for her. He had genuinely believed that that was the case for a while.

But then he had met Terry, the only woman he had dated since Lois who he had genuinely cared about. It wasn't until she had lightly punched him on the arm when they were joking around that he had realised he was attracted to her because of her resemblance to Lois. It had been unfair of him to continue with the relationship after that. Lois had never let him forget it. No one turns their back on chemistry like that, she had often cried. What had he been thinking?

Clearly, he'd still been thinking of her, all the time he'd thought he was over her. Now he was stuck in limbo. He couldn't think about anyone else but he couldn't pursue Lois.

Because everything she had said that night was still true. Superman couldn't place her first and neither could Clark Kent. Neither man was able to be with her in the way she needed. He'd thought at least that as a Kryptonian he could still look at her sometimes as he wanted to. But now, now, she was standing there, telling him that she thought the whole thing was a charade, designed to exploit her.

He could let her believe that, he could fail to deny it vehemently enough and let her make up her own mind. He could even try to tell her the truth about himself, yet again, but there was no reason to believe that this time it would work. The perception filter meant everyone saw what they wanted to saw. And she had never wanted to see Clark Kent when she looked at Superman. Now, even further down the line, she had more reason than ever to believe she wasn't being deceived on such a mammoth scale. Who would want to accept that kind of betrayal?

Or there could be another option. He could reach out for what he wanted so badly. Last time he had let her go with hardly a fight, having convinced himself she would be safer, happier without him. But he had come to understand it was himself he was keeping safe. The stakes had become so high when he'd stepped out into the light but that hadn't been the real reason he'd let her love die with a whimper. It all came back to that field, and the moment his parents had rescued him from a much darker future.

His origins were a constant source of fascination to the public. The doomed planet of Krypton, his birth parents' decision to risk everything on a roll of the dice. But it wasn't being Kryptonian that really kept him away from being honest with the one woman he wanted. It was being human. It was being told by his protective parents that he had to keep his nature a secret because some people couldn't be trusted. It was telling the girl next door that he was an alien, and then pulling her dead from a car. It was seeing people who learned about him try to use him to further their own agenda.

Had he ever chosen to tell anyone?

Had he ever been honest of his own accord?

She, more than anyone, deserved his trust. He had told her many times, only for it to be undone, and she had never rejected him.

"Lois…" She was waiting, poised on the cusp of saying something irrevocable. Maybe on another day she would never have pushed things this far but it was how she felt, underneath the day-to-day emotions. Maurie's death had exposed the underlying seam of frustration and doubt that he saw now must have been there from the beginning. He had to try and undo two years of mistakes before he lost her for good. He walked closer to her, comforted that she didn't pull away from him. Instead she fixed him with her most searing gaze, the kind that made him feel she could straight through him, past the lies, right down to who he was.

He touched her right cheek with the most tentative of moves. She continued to stare at him.

"Superman, if you don't start talking, I'm throwing _you_ off this roof."

"Please don't call me that."

"What's wrong with Superman? I came up with that," she snapped.

"It's a great name for the headlines but it's not my name."

"Fine. Kal-El. Is that better?"

"Better."

"You never had a problem with anyone calling you by that name before," she frowned.

"It serves its purpose. But I've always had a problem with you calling me that." She studied him thoughtfully and then nodded minutely. He took a deep breath. If he handled this wrong… "If you look into these killings, you won't think the same of me as you do now. I won't be the hero you think I am. I've made some big mistakes in my life. Ones that you won't be too impressed by."

"Now you're getting absurd. I never claimed you were perfect."

"But you think I 'soar' too high to have feet of clay."

"Oh, so now I'm supposed to apologise for admiring your achievements? Have you always been this obnoxious?" She began to walk away from him but he stepped in front of her before she could make it two steps.

"I meant it to be this way. I want people to see the best in me, so I can be the symbol they need. They don't want a real person to believe in, they want the super version."

"Can you move, your steel butt is in my way," she sniped. He took hold of her arms.

"But I don't want you to see that mask Lois. You wanted the blur to come out into the public eye and show his face, otherwise people would never trust in him. But though you're looking straight at me, this isn't my real face."

"Hold on. What are you saying? You're actually a green tentacled squid-face? Because you looking so much like a human always did seem…"

"Your sensitivity to alien stereotyping is duly noted Lois, I was speaking figuratively."

"Right. Knew that. You can forget about that tentacle thing? I did a few shots earlier…actually, you know what, I don't care, I don't want to speak to you anymore." She tried to tug her arms out of his grasp but he didn't let her go. He was acting distinctly unlike Superman now. There was no backing out of this now.

"Then just listen. Off the record." He knew this was bound to stall her. That phrase was like the verbal equivalent of an unlocked filing cabinet or a disgruntled employee for her. She couldn't resist. "This face was necessary but it's not real." She cocked her head to the side, waiting for him to explain himself. "If you look into these murders you're going to find out what my real name is. And when you do, I want you to remember, I've lied about a lot of things but never…"

"You've never lied to me?" She said hopefully.

"I have lied to you," he said. The look on her face was agonising.

"You must have had reasons. I know that. You belong to the world, you have to…"

"No," he cut her off. "I don't want you making excuses for me. I'm not above other people Lois. My mistakes are my own. The hurt I've caused you has reasons behind it but they're not always good ones."

"Why are you saying these things to me?"

"Because I don't want to lose you."

"Your approach is a little confusing then," she whispered.

"I've been a coward for too long. I've been hiding behind this costume. Making excuses. Write this story and you'll find out who I really am. How I really feel about you." She inhaled sharply.

"And will I be happy about what I find out?"

"I don't know Lois, I honestly don't," he said sadly, letting go of his hold on her. She stepped back uncertainly.

"If you have something to tell me, why don't you just tell me? Why do you want me jumping through hoops like this?"

"If I told you, you would never believe me."

"It's crazier than you being an alien Moses with a mission to save the planet?" She asked derisively. "I've had to swallow a lot of crazy things ever since you came to this city. I can handle it."

"There's more to this than you understand right now Lois. Just…trust me." She stared at him.

"I always have," she said, the pained vulnerability in her voice awful to hear. The urge to spill out all the facts seized him but he reminded himself it would do no good. He had tried before. And it hadn't worked. Superman and Clark Kent occupied two separate places in her heart and until she could reconcile the two, she would never believe it. That was how they had set it up. And it worked far too well. "But I can't do this."

"Please. One story Lois. Even if it's the last one you ever write about me."

"Maybe it should be. How about 'My final night with Superman'," she sneered. "What a joke." And this time, when she walked away, he didn't try and stop her.


	5. Chapter 5

Lois wondered if she hit her head against her desk, would it shake off her headache, or make it worse? She bent forward and gave it a tentative tap. A sharp pain darted through her brain and she groaned loudly.

That answered that mystery.

She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the wooden surface. She heard Clark walk up to their desks. Maybe, just maybe, he was approaching with the cure for a hangover of both an alcoholic and emotional nature. She heard him cough gently.

"Smallville? Tell me that you have brought me an espresso made in a fusion reactor. Or leave me be."

"Uh, not exactly," he said apologetically. She looked up and instantly narrowed her eyes. He was holding something incredibly yellow in his arms. At least the colour receptors in her retinas were still working. If only they weren't working so well.

"Are those sunflowers?" She closed her eyes miserably and despaired. "Who sent them? And what did I do to make them hate me so much?"

"Uh…" Had Clark always been this awkward around her? Surely he knew how to talk to her by now, they'd known each other for almost a decade for heaven's sake. "Actually I got them…for you." Lois cracked open one eye to see if he was joking. Clark didn't always have a great sense of humour, so this was very possible. But he seemed to be deadly serious. In fact, he looked very, very serious. And unhappy. She really didn't have time for his personal problems today, hadn't he heard she had thrown a huge temper tantrum in front of The World's Hottest Bachelor last night?

Then she remembered she was never going to tell anyone that entire evening had ever happened. If she was lucky, she would enter a months-long coma right about now, this time for real, and wake up with no memory of it. Superman could just bury it along with all the other horrible stuff he encountered every day. He must have nutso women threatening him unless he defined the terms of their non-existent relationship every day. After all, the man had a posterior so magnificent, it repelled bullets.

"Clark, did you cheat on me last night and go cover a story with Hardball Hennessy?"

"No."

"Then why are you bringing me flowers? Flowers are an apology."

"Well, it's about last night."

"Please, let's never talk about those particular hours ever again."

"That will make it hard for me to apologise." She sighed and leaned back in her chair. Shading her eyes with her hands, she studied her partner, and the rather attractive bouquet he held. "I didn't handle everything very well yesterday. I should have known that…I wasn't there for you. You needed a friend, and I wasn't a friend." He looked genuinely upset at this but she had absolutely no understanding why. Did he really think she was going to go into meltdown with grief? Sure, that had probably been a major factor in her misery-fest with Superman last night but he hadn't witnessed that. She didn't want anyone thinking she wasn't handling Maurie's death well, not even Clark.

Maybe she had even less control over herself than she realised.

"Lois?" He was touching her cheek gently, a sensation that sent tingles through her skin. "I'm here for you, if you need anything. If you want to talk, or watch some kung fu films, or just need to ball someone out. Okay?" She nodded mutely, feeling herself well up again, for at least the fifth time that morning. Evidently she hadn't got all the tears out after sobbing herself to sleep last night.

She was a total car crash right now.

"Work."

"Okay," he smiled sadly. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, my time is all freed up again, so I can help you out with your Superman killings story."

"You don't think you should be taking it…" he stopped as he caught sight of her face. "Work. Right. I'm not sure I actually need much help with the story Lois but…"

"Well, have you been out to the Philips crime scene yet?"

"Last night, and I already spoke to the cops this morning. Should I ask how you know about his death? And how come you're suddenly convinced these murders are to do with Superman?"

"I got it straight from the man himself," she said breezily.

"Right." He seemed to be waiting for her to say more but when she didn't elaborate he forged onwards. "Well, I've heard the D.A.'s office has specifically asked him to stay away from the case, so you may not get much more information from that direction."

"Why?" She asked. Superman had more reason than anyone to want the killer or killers caught. Once the media got hold of his connection to the deaths then he would be sucked into a story that would throw up all kinds of uncomfortable questions. Lois knew that once they had enough proof, they would have to run the theory but she regretted the damaging effects it could have on his reputation.

"This killer thinks Superman is some messiah. If he looks likes he's more powerful than our own criminal justice system, it doesn't exactly contradict the suggestion he's above human society." Clark sounded almost bitter, and Lois wondered one again how he really felt about the superhero. When he'd first appeared she'd tried to discuss the subject with Clark but he'd seemed reticent. She'd begun to understand he felt threatened by the other man and ever since they'd broken up, and his name had come up in their final argument, neither of them talked much about him with each other. Now didn't seem like the time to have that conversation though.

"Well, you need me on this one okay? We've got multiple victims, a crazy killer, and you know everybody else is going to be all over this."

"We do have a head start on them. The cops aren't talking about the messages. And only a handful know what they said." That didn't make a lot of sense. A freaky sign-off from the killer would have everyone talking, no matter how much the brass tried to prevent it. It would only be a matter of time before someone else leaked. Clark had good sources but he wasn't the only good reporter in the city. "You haven't seen them? Of course, you don't know how they were written." He opened a folder on his desk and pulled out several sheets of paper. He slid the top one across the desk to her.

Instead of letters, a collection of pictograms were arrayed in a neat line on the page. Maybe her eyes weren't working so well after all.

"Huh?"

"The messages were written in Kryptonian Lois." She tried to get her sluggish brain to grapple with that new piece of information. Either the killer knew an awful lot about a dead alien language with only one living speaker. Or the killer was a Kryptonian. Lois winced. A really bad thought had just occurred to her.

"If this gets out…" Clark nodded, his face looking even more anxious.

"…people will think Superman is killing them."

"But the killer is obviously not super-powered, or why would he chloroform them first?" Even as she protested, she knew it was pointless. People were bound to think Superman was the killer or directing the murders himself. He could be manoeuvring some acolyte to dispose of his enemies. "This is a disaster, no wonder he…" She stopped. She wasn't going to think about that right now, she couldn't afford any more pressure on her exhausted brain. She had gone over and over it all last night as she lay in her bed, their last conversation, their first, she had even thought back to the last few weeks of her relationship with Clark. Maybe she wouldn't have been so quick to throttle their still unfolding connection if he hadn't been on the scene.

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Why has everything become such a nightmare?"

Clark bent down in front of her, one hand stroking her hair. The action surprised her but it wasn't unwelcome. She peeked through her fingers, aware she was coming across as a little unhinged.

"Clark, I'm…" She struggled to find the words. Usually she would fire off a line that would get him to back off, get him to realise she was more than fine without his comfort. Even when they'd been dating she'd paid close attention to letting him get too close. A make-out session in the copy room was one thing, but thinking she needed him as a shoulder to cry on when things were going wrong was another. Her feelings back then with Clark had been so intense, she'd been scared of what would happen if it all went wrong. "Did I push you away ever? Is that why…" She regretted the question as soon as it had left her lips. She had been vascillating between thinking Superman was a huge ass and that she was a disaster-zone who couldn't be in a real relationship all night. And she had just let slip one of the things she had been torturing herself with.

He looked surprised to hear her mention it; it was one of the only things they didn't discuss. Along with the red and blue elephant in the room.

"I'm sorry, forget I ever said it."

"Lois, back then...that was all my fault. You were totally right." Then he smiled at her. "And I don't have cause to say that very often, so you should probably treasure these memories." She punched him in the arm and smiled reluctantly,

"Jerk. Come on then, talk me through what you've got so far and I'll tell you how you should be approaching it." Clark returned to his seat and began to flip through the pages of his notebook. His reassurance about how things had ended between them was of some comfort. Even though Clark was too much of a good guy ever to hold her responsible for something like that, his words told her one thing: Clark Kent might be a lot of things but he wasn't the kind of guy who was going to throw her world upside down. She could count on him to be always kind, always generous, and always her friend.

"Before we start, there's something you should know. The second victim? James Caulfield?" Lois nodded, recalling the grainy image from the Xerox of his driver's license. He'd looked a little like Jimmy. "I think his i.d. is fake."

"Why?"

Clark ran his hands through his hair.

"I think I recognise him." Lois frowned. This was the victim Superman said he'd known. Caulfield's background was entirely unremarkable. He'd been working as a pizza delivery boy in Metropolis for only six months. Before that he'd been moving from city to city in the state. He had no family that anyone had been able to track down yet, and he'd grown up in foster homes. He'd been picked up by the police a few times for starting fights with the wrong kind of people in bars but since he'd always come off the loser, he'd never been charged with anything.

"From where?"

"High school." Lois was certain there had been no mention of Smallville in Caulfield's history. In which case… "I think his real name was Eric Summers." Clark's expression was hard to read. Whoever the guy had been, he didn't seem to have fond memories of him. Lois sometimes had the impression that until he'd joined the football squad, Clark had been picked on by some of his classmates who thought he was an easy mark, despite his size.

Lois had never been sure whether that had been an act he had put on at school to avoid drawing attention to himself. She'd never have considered that, except sometimes when they were working, she'd seen him adopt the same bumbling, unassuming persona she thought he'd largely left behind in school. It was a subtler version of her own airhead act that she could unleash. With the glasses and the awful job he could make of fixing his tie, he could be so _Small_ville, that people forgot he was tall, strong and handsome.

It was like he took all the gifts he was given, and stamped down on them.

She still didn't know why.

"I don't remember you mentioning him."

"You might remember Chloe mentioning him though. It was her first byline in the paper." He pulled something up on his computer screen and turned it round so she could see. It was an old front page from the Smallville Ledger. Lois' mouth suddenly felt very dry. There was the title, in big, bold caps.

'SUPER BOY. SMALLVILLE'S NEWEST HERO' And a picture of a teenager, who resembled the picture in the license.

"Super Boy? Guess I really wasn't being original. What happened?"

"One day he suddenly had these abilities. Incredible strength, speed. He caused a scene at school and when the police came to talk to him, he resisted arrest." Clark clicked through on a link and pulled up a later edition of the paper. A pleasant looking house was decorated with a patrol car in its roof, and another scattered across the lawn in various parts.

"That's an understatement."

"Eventually his powers seemed to disappear. He was sent to Belle Reeve. They suspected he murdered another inmate the next year." Clark rubbed his jaw wearily. "I didn't know he'd been let out. A lot of the meteor-infected people who are sent there are never released back into the community. People are too fearful of them."

"They let Alicia out," Lois said gently. Clark's girlfriend had reformed but when she'd moved back to Smallville, people had reacted with suspicion. Lois remembered her own reaction with shame. The sight of Clark finding her murdered was one of the most terrible memories she had of her time in the town. And she had been in some ugly situations there.

"Part of the reason she was released was her doctor was obsessed with her. But maybe you're right, maybe he did reform. And if he'd still had his abilities he probably wouldn't have been killed like that, so maybe they decided he wasn't a threat. I'm not sure why he was killed though."

Lois looked at the image of the house again. Though she'd told him that she couldn't face investigating the connection between him and these killings, faced with that provocative headline, she wasn't able to resist. Eric Summers promised to reveal some of Superman's secrets. He'd warned her she might not like what she found but one way to deal with the doubts was to tackle them head on.

One final story on Superman, the one that might finally unlock those parts of himself he kept away from her. Then she wouldn't be the frustrated reporter, chasing his cape all around town anymore. She would finally know.

One way or another.

"Clark, I want to take the Summers angle." He opened his mouth and she cut in. "Look, hear me out. I know it makes way more sense for you do this, after all, you actually knew the guy. But I'd be bringing something totally fresh to it. No prejudgements, no assumptions. I know some people at Belle Reeve anyway, from when we were covering the Tess story. They owe me for not hanging them out to dry."

"Why do you want to look at Summers in particular?"

"If I look at Philips, I'll find it hard to overlook the fact I detested the man. You never got hot under the collar about that idiot. Plus, this Summers not only getting out of Belle Reeve and having this whole fake identity that the cops haven't seen through yet, is weird."

"No other reason?"

Lois shrugged.

"Reporter's instincts Smallville, they're hard to explain to the civilian." He raised an eyebrow at her which she ignored. "Anyway, I want to get a start on this right now. We can catch up later about the rest right?" She stood up, grabbing her purse and jacket.

"Hey, I thought you wanted to talk through the whole case again? What about telling me where I'm going wrong?"

"I have total confidence in you hayseed, you just carry on as normal and I'll handle victim two." She looked through the debris on her desk, found an abandoned pastry she couldn't date and took a bit out of it anyway. She felt revitalised suddenly. She had something to actually sink her teeth into, apart from the dessicated pastry, and if she was working this Super Boy angle like crazy, she wouldn't have to sit around flagellating herself about delivering ultimatums to her unattainable love object. Maybe she'd even be able to forget Maurie for a moment.

She found her cell phone and seized it triumphantly. Now she could call Chloe from the taxi to let her knew she was coming. That should give her a decent length of time to hide whatever she was up to for Oliver and his merry band but not enough to escape her base of operations. As her cousin had spent more and more time working in her hideaway, she'd been less and less eager to allow anyone to visit. She'd moved back into the apartment above the Talon and would entertain guests there. But her Watchtower became off limits for casual drop-ins.

Lois hadn't been there in over six months, and she suspected Chloe wouldn't be keen to let her over the threshold. But she wasn't about to rebuffed. Chloe was going for a walk down memory lane with her, whether she liked it or not.

She began to walk off, leaving Clark to it. But then she remembered one last thing.

Turning back to him she kissed him on the cheek quickly. He looked at her with surprise.

"Thanks for the flowers Kent."

"I…"

"Put them in some water for me, yeah?" And she hurried off to the elevator. If this was going to be The Final Article, it was going to be one hell of a story.


	6. Chapter 6

Lois stepped into Chloe's office and her jaw dropped. The place was even more intimidating than it had been on her last visit. A huge screen dominated the left-hand side of the room, itself surrounded by tables and several computers. To the right were several tall objects which Lois thought had to be servers. It made sense to have those on the premises if they held the kind of sensitive information she suspected they might. Larger than the servers though was a metal cabinet that seemed to be made of steel. It had two doors, each three feet wide. The whole thing went back six feet.

Whatever she was keeping in there was not for public consumption. Its presence unnerved her. It looked a little like a cage.

"Lois, this is really not a great time…" Chloe was walking behind her, trying to be firm but Lois had already worn her down over the phone.

"It's always a good time for me to give you an enforced rest break from your computers Chlo. You're going to end up in a medical text book as case study for repetitive strain injury one of these days." Lois managed to locate the couch Chloe had kept as a nod to human comfort and sat herself down on it. She put her bag of donuts on the coffee table in front of her. Followed by the fresh coffee. "Don't fight it cuz, you lost the battle when I whispered the magic word: latte." Chloe broke out into a grin and joined her on the couch, reaching for her drink with relief.

"I needed this. Thanks Lois. I ran out of the good stuff last night."

"Don't tell me you slept here again?" Lois said sharply as she looked her over. Chloe was turned out nicely as always but she did look a little tired. She'd looked tired for over two years now though. Ever since Jimmy had died she just hadn't been…

"It's convenient. It's not as if you've never had to pull an all-nighter at the Planet Lois because I know you live at that place. Those poor plants of yours are even more neglected than Shelby."

"Hmph. What have you been working on anyway?"

"Oh, the usual. You wouldn't find it very interesting." Lois snorted with laughter. Chloe's official job description said she was a computer security contractor for Queen Industries. Lois suspected she spent very little time looking into Oliver's corporate affairs. No, she was supporting his other interests, the ones that had him running around the world in some dubious leather outfits. He hadn't gone as bombastic as Superman in the costume stakes, which was fortunate. Ollie was a very attractive man but he could never have pulled off red boots, red underwear and blue tights. You had to come from outer space to work that look.

Still, the idea that Lois wouldn't be very, very interested in learning what Chloe was up to was laughable. It wasn't right for her to pry into her business though and she wasn't about to put her cousin in an awkward position. And also because she knew Chloe wouldn't hesitate to say no to her questions. Her work was everything to her, a much higher priority than her social life. But Lois couldn't afford to throw any stones on that point.

"Well, since you can't bore me with your office talk, how about I bore you with some of mine?"

"You need a favour." Chloe said dryly.

"Let's call it a philanthropic act." Lois wrestled a donut out of the bag and bit into it with gusto. Her headache was finally starting to recede. "You know these unexplained deaths around Metropolis?"

"Which ones?" There were quite a few strange murders in Metropolis. As well as attracting big business and some of the best and brightest in the country, it also attracted dangerous people with ugly appetites.

"The ones Clark's working on. They're connected to Superman, who told me he knew the second victim." Chloe was looking at her attentively now. "But Clark just said to me he thinks he recognises the second guy, James Caulfield. He thinks he was living under an assumed name. And that's he actually someone you both know." Chloe looked shocked.

"Who was it?"

"Eric Summers." Chloe shook her head.

"No, Clark must be wrong. He's…he's supposed to still be in Belle Reeve."

"You seem pretty sure." Chloe was quiet for a moment as she tapped the side of her cup.

"I check up on them regularly. Some of Belle Reeve's residents are incredibly dangerous, you know that." Chloe got up and walked over to one of her active computers and began to flick through programs, faster than Lois could follow. She seemed to have brought up Eric Summers' medical records from the institution. "Right, like I remembered. He's still there. He was attacked by another prisoner six months ago and suffered some brain damage. He's been in a vegetative state ever since. He's in the low security wing now." Chloe's eyes scanned further down the page, and she brought up an image.

The picture of Summers didn't look much like the one from the paper but then that had been a long time ago, before the guy had spent years in a state institution.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"That's not him."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I haven't checked his whole file in a while but they…" Her fingers flew rapidly over the keyboard. "They attached a new image to his file when he was attacked."

"They faked his records."

"And now whoever this guy is locked up in some side ward. It says his mom hasn't visited him since the accident. No surprise his dad never came to see him," she said sharply. "He always talked to Eric like he was dirt in public. But either they're hoping she never tries to come see him again, or she knows about the switch." Chloe opened up a new window and pulled up the police records on James Caulfield's murder. The images from the crime scene showed the man's face. It matched the picture of the teenager in Chloe's Ledger story.

Chloe began to search for information on James Caulfield. As she brought up employment records, tax returns and his educational history, her frown deepened.

"This wasn't put together in a hurry, there's some nice work in here. The cops might never notice this guy is a fake. They've even put together a trail in the care system, which is smart, because this guy would probably scream institutionalised after being in Belle Reeve for years."

"I need to go down there." Lois said. Chloe grabbed her arm.

"Wait, Lois. This kind of work takes expertise and money. Someone has gone to a lot of effort to spring Summers out of there, and I have no idea why. You don't want to go charging into this without getting a better idea of who's behind this."

"I think you've forgotten how effective getting up in someone's face can be," Lois said. "Trust me Chlo, I wasn't made this obnoxious for no reason."

"Okay," she let go of her and smiled slightly. "I know you know what you're doing. You are Lois Lane."

"I'm glad someone doesn't think I just lucked into all my big breaks," Lois grumbled. Chloe dragged her eyes away from Summers' history to glance at her cousin. "It's nothing. Hey, if I head off now can you email me all this? From one of your anonymous accounts of course, I don't want anything coming back to you."

"Of course." She turned away from what she was doing. "How was it yesterday?"

"The funeral? It was…nice. The Planet memorial on Monday was better, more Maurie anyway. He's not in pain anymore I guess." Lois shrugged.

"Still. I know how much you looked up to him." Lois fidgeted with her purse. "That piece you wrote was perfect."

"He would have picked holes in it straight away," she laughed. "That was Maurie. Always trying to teach me something, even if…" She fell silent for a moment. "Even if I thought I knew best. He thought if he said it enough times, maybe something would sink into my thick head." She bit her lip hard. She really didn't want to start unpacking memories of her old mentor with Chloe, it would only lead to sobbing and 'if onlys'. She couldn't afford that right now.

Maybe next week she could stop and think about everything but right now…right now, she had to get moving on this story before someone beat her to it. No one was going to have Superman's secrets but her. And it seemed like the place to start was her old stomping ground. She hadn't spent much time in Smallville recently, despite both Chloe and Clark still living there. She doubted much had changed since her last visit, the place was at least eighteen months behind Metropolis.

"Do you ever wonder, why Smallville?" Lois asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, all this. Some Superman-fixated killer picks a Smallville High alumni to wipe out? Even the water poisoning plot was tied up with that place."

"Well, the meteors have kind made it the nexus for everything weird and wonderful," Chloe smiled.

"Exactly. I mean, all these alien rocks, it's weird how Superman doesn't seem to tie up to the town," Lois said as checked her phone for messages. Clark had sent her an email, of course, but otherwise she didn't look like she had anything worth reading. Chloe hadn't replied yet so she glanced up at her. Her cousin was staring at her with a mystifying expression on her face. It seemed to combine shock, nerves and amusement. "What did I say?"

Chloe tucked her hair behind her ears and moistened her lips.

"Well, why do you think he doesn't?"

Lois laughed,

"Because…" her mind suddenly went blank. There were solid, good reasons why she knew Superman wasn't connected to the meteor showers. It just seemed like right now, she couldn't recall any of them. Which was weird. "Everyone knows they're not connected."

"I know but why?"

"I…I mean I just…" Lois shook her head. "Superman and Smallville are an oxymoron Chlo, you know that. I mean, you would have noticed if a flying alien had ever hung out around town, wouldn't you," she scoffed. Chloe shook her head.

"Lois, are you forgetting those two really strange people who turned up at the Kents after the second meteor shower? The ones Lana claimed came out of a space ship in Lander's field?"

"Sure but they weren't…I mean they were just…" Lois paused. This whole conversation was making her feel extremely uncomfortable and she wasn't sure why. She remembered the man and woman who had threatened her and the Kents, she remembered the burning feeling in her lungs as she was choked. But she felt something else was missing. It was like the needle had skipped and she'd jumped to a new part of the track. "Meteor freaks Chlo, the town was full of them." She smiled brightly at her, though Chloe seemed strangely disappointed. "I've really got to go, thanks for your help though, I appreciate it!" She hugged her quickly and then hurried for the entrance. She glanced at the incongruous metal cabinet as she left. Its presence in Chloe's office bothered her but she wasn't sure why.

The drive to Smallville was uneventful, which she wasn't glad of. After setting up a meeting with her source, she had time to think, and thinking at the moment didn't seem to help her very much. If it wasn't her conversation with Superman, it was Clark's strange behaviour that morning, or the weird things Chloe had been saying to her. And underneath them all was Maurie.

She remembered the first time she had introduced Clark to him. She had invited him along to one of the irregular dinners she had with Maurie at a Turkish restaurant near his apartment. It was one of the many places in the city that treated the veteran reporter like a fixture. Lois guessed he didn't eat in his own place very much. In fact, she'd only been in his apartment after he died. The place had been small, dingy and utterly devoid of the things that had animated the man. He didn't live there.

He belonged in the newsroom.

During the first dinner the three of them had shared, Clark had made one of his customary visits to places unknown and Lois had been helping herself to some of his lamb kebabs. One of the unspoken rules of their partnership was she could help herself to his food as compensation for him abandoning her during a meal.

"You know kid, I haven't met that fella of yours yet." Lois had cringed. The idea of introducing her latest boyfriend, a detective out of auto theft, to Maurie of all people, had made her skin crawl. It would be like introducing him to her father.

"Not going to happen. But since Perry made us official partners, you did really need to meet Clark. So you have an idea of the nightmare I'm dealing with." Maurie had smirked. "Oh please, not you too." Sure, Clark had kissed her, right in the street, only the week before but absolutely nothing had happened since. And it probably never would. Clark Kent wasn't about to man up twice in one year.

And she wasn't going to make a fool of herself by falling at his feet. They'd only just put their friendship back on an even keel after he had flaked out that summer.

"Okay, okay, you know best Lane. But I kind of like him."

"You do?" She had said with surprise. She would have thought Clark's sweeter nature would grate against Maurie's weathered cynicism. Maurie appreciated the value of honest, decent citizens, and would sometimes hold forth on how such individuals held civilised society together. He just didn't want to chow down with them.

"Don't you?" The look he had given her made her feel a little embarrassed, like she was being childish.

"I don't admit to it in public," she had returned.

"He's not as dull as you made out. In fact, he's kind of interesting." Lois had put her fork down. Now Maurie really was confusing her. Clark was a great guy, she knew that. But some of his subtler attractions would be lost on a guy like Maurie. And she didn't think he was going to be bowled over by Smallville's surface appeal. He was into French women who smoked Gauloises, not strapping young men whose idea of a nightcap was a glass of warm milk. "Didn't you tell me that town he comes from was always turning out psychos with super powers?"

"Sure."

"And his parents raised him to be the kind of guy who gives his seat up on the bus to little old ladies and carries a handkerchief in his top pocket."

"Yeah."

"And he used to be best friends with Lex Luthor."

"Uh-huh."

"But he's a terrible liar." Lois had been completely bemused. What was Maurie driving at? "Take this call he said he had to make. You don't believe him, do you?"

"Well…" Lois had paused. No one had ever asked her about this before. Most people put Clark's disappearances down to him being disorganised or a total flake. Why would they spend any time wondering about it? And his friends were used to it. Chloe had always described Clark as weird, ever since she'd moved to the middle of nowhere. But did she really believe his excuses when he disappeared? It hadn't really mattered. If he needed to be somewhere else, she kind of took that at face value. "It's just Clark being Smallville," she had shrugged, as if that was sufficient explanation. Another consequence of her upbringing perhaps, swallowing stories from friends that she wouldn't accept from strangers.

"I don't know Lane, if you didn't care about this guy so much, I think you'd see what I see."

"And what's that?"

But at that moment Clark had returned to the table. He had made his apologies to both of them and then slid into the booth next to her. He'd looked down at his suddenly empty plate and a small smile had tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"So, what did I miss?"

Lois had never pursued the conversation with Maurie. Soon after she'd started dating Clark, and been caught up in one of the most exciting times in her life, and one of the most bitterly disappointing. Maurie had never seemed to want to discuss her partner with her again. Until that last comment he'd made in the hospice. So many things she'd left unanswered. Conversations they should have had but she had put to one side. Things she wanted to learn from him. She'd thought they had time, even when he was slipping away right in front of her. She'd needed to believe there was still time. Had that been selfish of her?

Lois pulled up outside the Hideaway. Her contact at Belle Reeve was due to arrive in ten minutes or so but she wasn't keen about sitting in the grimy bar to wait for him. At this hour in the afternoon, the place was bound to be empty except for the most determined drinkers.

What did I miss, she asked herself.

She'd told herself that Clark wasn't some big mystery. Sure, he had some quirks that resisted easy explanation. But nothing game-changing. Except Maurie had made out that there was something bigger going on with Clark than she'd been prepared to admit. Had he been right? Did she really know her best friend as well as she thought?

And Superman was now making out that he had a whole closet full of secrets he was keeping from her. The kind of big lies that might change how she looked at him.

But even more wounding than the idea that she was dropping the ball as a journalist, and stumbling through life with blinkers on when it came to the two men in her life, was the understanding that she had been fooling herself about them. She'd half-convinced myself that she and Clark had a future when the whole time they could only ever be best friends. Then she had told herself that she was just infatuated with Superman, when really she was head over heels in love with him.

Sick of the same questions that had been pounding her brain into submission all last night, she turned on the radio and found the most infuriating talk radio station on the dial. The current host was opining on the evils on television, cinema, music and any form of entertainment more frenetic than whittling.

She put her feet up on the dashboard with a sigh of relief. When she did work out the answers, she could console herself that they couldn't be as demented as this guy's, even if this was Smallville.


	7. Chapter 7

Lois spotted her contact parking his car after twenty interminable minutes. As he got out, he scanned the lot and then hurried towards the entrance. His nerves didn't seem to be focusing his mind because he failed to notice her. She followed him into the bar after a decent interval. The Hideaway was appropriately dimly lit, and its patrons tended to ignore each other, which it made it just the right kind of place for a quiet meeting. Lois spotted her target quickly.

Tom Jordan was seating in a booth, one down from the door to the bathrooms. His back was to her but he was fidgeting in his seat in a way none of the other patron would be capable of, since they were all well-marinaded by now. In a couple of hours the workers would clock off and arrive for their consolation drinks but until then, Jordan was the most hyped-up guy in the place.

The nurse had always been nervous around her. A fact that had made him an attractive possibility as a source when she had first looked into Belle Reeve. She had been lead there when she and Clark been chasing Tess Mercer down, believing she was connected with the water poisoning plot. Someone had pointed the man out in the Talon for her as a good person to talk to. A little probing into his affairs had revealed Jordan had significant gambling debts. He was also known to fleece the inmates under his care for cash whenever he could.

Despite his morally dubious actions, he did draw some lines in relation to the vulnerable people he worked with. One of the things he couldn't swallow was people spiriting away the more interesting patients for days or weeks on end, and then returning them with gaps in their memory of a new battery of emotional problems.

And sometimes, they didn't come back at all.

He had slowly revealed that this was happening at the Sanitarium to her over the course of two weeks and under the pressure of some heavy-duty harassment. Though he resented her presence, she realised he also felt great relief over unburdening himself. Because although he had initially thought the government was behind the disappearances, he had learnt from a friend, Raul, that they were being arranged by LutherCorps, and had been going on for many years, in fits and starts.

Jordan had been one of the vital links in putting together her story exposing Tess. And though she had never been able to prove Mercer had direct knowledge that scientists were experimenting on prisoners and the mentally ill, without their consent, the court had found her guilty of authorising un-sanctioned experiments using meteor rock on humans. The feds also hadn't found enough evidence that she had knowingly provided the Metropolis poisoning plotters with the meteor rock they needed. But her methods of pressurising Smallville landowners into selling their property or allowing LutherCorps to mine the rock from their land were exposed, and hadn't she cut one too many corners in the rush to get her hands on the minerals?

She hadn't gone away forever but she had gone to prison. It had caused Oliver no end of problems with his business empire and for a while she suspected that she had managed to critically injure Queen Industries. But it had pulled through.

The story had also helped spring her and Clark into the big leagues. So when the F.B.I. had scoured Belle Reeve for rot, she had protected Jordan and Raul. Several doctors and other staff had lost their jobs, with a handful being successfully prosecuted but Jordan and his friend had been concealed behind her shield of anonymity. Which meant she had a reluctant friend for life, though sometimes he recalled that she was the one who had stirred up the whole hornets' nest in the first place.

Lois slipped past the bar and picked up a vodka and coke, hoping she wouldn't have to drink very much of it. She had already warded off one headache today, she didn't want another one. Unfortunately the beer tasted like it had been home-brewed in the urinals, which she hadn't warned Clark about the first time they had come here together. The look on his face had almost been payback enough for inviting the General and Lucy to the Kent farm for that Thanksgiving.

He'd got his revenge by kissing her after his drink. A revenge she'd been happy enough to indulge him in once.

She made her way over to Jordan and sat opposite him. His face up close was grey and covered in a sheen of sickly sweat. His eyes were bloodshot and he appeared to have been sleeping in his suit. He was in even worse shape than he'd sounded on the phone.

"God Tom, you look like hell. What have you been doing to yourself?"

"Yeah, well, you don't look too good yourself." Lois tried not to snarl back and instead opted for a neutral,

"Busy week. How you doing though? It's been a while."

"Wish it coulda been longer," he grumbled. Lois was surprised by his bitterness. Even at the height of the house-cleaning at Belle Reeve, with the eye of the federal government staring down at him, Tom had never been this openly aggressive with her. He was a bit of a softie really, underneath the self-serving actions of a compulsive gambler. He seemed to realise he was being uncharacteristically sour and took a guilty slug of his drink. He was quite far into it already but it didn't seem to have had any effect. He was as jittery as if he'd been mainlining espresso.

"Hey, whatever's going on, relax okay? I'm not here to get you in trouble."

"I'm already in trouble," he groaned.

"What's wrong?" She had a feeling they both knew what was wrong but she'd learnt a while ago, not to put words in a source's mouth. Sometimes they had quite different information they wanted to spill. Tom was chewing on his thumb nail now, something he looked like he'd been paying a lot of recent attention to.

"You have friends in high places right? Like judges and Superman and guys like that? You could pull in some favours for me if you had to?"

"I'd have to know what the trouble was first. But yeah, I know a few of the right ears to whisper in. No promises though. How bad are we talking?"

"You know how bad, that's why you called ain't it?" He finished off his drink and gestured to the barman for another. "People are saying he's dead. And if he is, and they find out about the guy in room 27 then I'm done for." He broke off as the barman delivered his drink. He glanced curiously at the two of them, Jordan's behaviour and her presence obviously piquing his interest. She ignored this and waited for him to return to his station before prompting Tom.

"It's Eric Summers, isn't it?" Jordan flinched.

"How many people know? Do the cops know yet?"

"I'm ahead of the cops but I don't know for how long." She said no more. She didn't want him to implode under the pressure but she wanted him to feel the heat. Right now, he needed to see her as his route out of this mess, even if that wasn't the case. That aspect of the job bothered her but not as much as it tortured Clark, the guy was the original bleeding heart, he seemed to want to take on a world's worth of human misery. She had a hard enough time of managing her own lately.

She wanted to ask him how he knew Summers was dead but she needed to wait for him to feed her the story. It was just a matter of patience. Not one of her strong suits unfortunately. As Jordan reviewed his options again, she realised there was one glaring exception. When it came to waiting on aliens to fall in love with her, she had limitless patience.

Jordan slumped a little in his seat, some of his burden already relieved by the knowledge he was going to tell her his secrets. He began to talk her through the problem he found himself implicated in.

The investigation into LutherCorp's experiments and the collusion of the senior staff at the institution had led to a great upheaval. Tom understood that several government 'bigshots' had become very interested in the place and had overseen the new hires. The disappearances had ended then and things had begun to return to normal, or as normal as they could at the place. But six months ago, while Tom hadn't been on duty, there had been a fight between two patients in the mess hall. One was Eric Summers. He had a habit of starting fights when sense said he shouldn't. He only received visits from his mother and she had been cutting her visits shorter and shorter as her son grew more taciturn and disturbed.

Summers had fought recent arrival Wayne Ingerson. Ingerson had died from a punctured lung, and Summers had suffered bleeding on the brain, leaving him comatose. Because of his vulnerable condition he had remained at the facility. Ingerson's family had received an urn of ashes.

Except Jordan had been assigned to check up on the patient in room 27, Summers' room, a few months ago, and he had found Wayne instead. It could hardly be much of a secret among the staff, the two men looked nothing alike, even allowing for prolonged illness. Jordan had initially suspected that Summers was the one whose ashes had been in that urn but the idea hadn't stood up to much examination. Summers' mother could visit at any time and uncover the deception, and where was the profit in it?

So he'd done a little asking around, and found out that Summers wasn't dead, he was free. And he was better off not thinking about it anymore. So now it looked like he had escaped and the facility had covered it up to avoid more unwelcome scrutiny. Summers might not have the awesome powers that had had him committed, but he was still a dangerous young man. Tom had decided he was better off keeping mouth shut, he had enough of his own troubles.

Lois suspected Jordan's interpretation of events wasn't quite the story. After all, Summers had ended up with a nice cover identity to work under, and he didn't escape Belle Reeve and do that, all by himself. Was it possible someone had instead arranged the fight, so Summers could leave his prison without the attention his 'death' would have, and then given him the considerable gift of a new identity? Except why would someone grant a guy like Summers a second chance like that? And was it connected to the people who had ultimately decided he wasn't deserving of a new life?

"Do you know who arranged the switch?" They'd have had to get a fake death certificate for Ingerson, and have closed down any investigation before it began. Tom was right to be nervous, whoever had done this had serious clout as well as cojones.

"I've forgotten names, names are a bad idea," Tom shook his head. Lois waited. Tom had something to bargain with, he hadn't agreed to this meeting without believing he could get more than an easier conscience out of it. Now he had her interest, he was prepared to pay it a little cooler, though his eyelid was twitching fast.

"Well, I can't print a story with no names, and without a story I'm just sitting here drinking with you. And that's a sorry picture." Jordan shrugged, his twitch still flickering like a moth batting at a window. She just needed patience, just a little more time and he would play his hand. Patience, patience, count to ten, count to a hundred even, just let him come to you.

She was rewarded when Tom said slyly,

"Might have made some photocopies." Lois tried to keep her face from lighting up. God she loved Xeroxes! A paper trail was gold. "But I don't know if I should show them to you."

"You have someone else you want to show them to?" She asked patiently. Had Tom decided to play her off against someone else? Surely not another reporter.

"Maybe. I've got other problems as well you know, and you're not big with the cash." Lois shrugged.

"Depends on the story, I'm interested in this one. But I might not be interested forever." They batted back the question of money for a few minutes more, Jordan growing cagier as they went on. Lois was beginning to suspect he had no other options and was merely trying to get as much out of her as he could. Unfortunately the expenses system at the Planet didn't allow for slipping sources fifty bucks, though she'd tried some creative rationalisations. She probably hadn't helped her own case by nearly topping the Planet's owners into financial oblivion with her Tess story. Accounts always shot her dark looks when she ventured into their domain with a scrunched-up ball of receipts, as if they knew she was toxic to shareholders.

But when the hand that feeds you was as rotten as Mercer's, you had to bite it.

She could see Jordan was going to give her nothing else, he wanted her to sweat for a while. But there was one question she needed an answer on straight away.

"You haven't explained how you know Summers is dead." Jordan shifted in his seat, chewing at that nail again. The confidence he'd regained as he toyed with her had evaporated. "Come on Tom, it's a serious hole in your story." He shook his head. "I need to know what's going on, or how can I help you?"

"This is one you can't help me with Lane, not even if you have the ear of Superman himself." She realised this was part of the reason Tom had been so agitated on her arrival.

"Come on, what can it hurt to tell me?" He dragged a hand across his face.

"You don't know what this town's like now. Things have gone bad here. Things have gone really bad."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's those meteor rocks you know! We all know they're not safe but we can't afford to leave!" He burst out.

"The EPA said…"

"Who cares what they said?!" He hissed. "They don't want to admit they made a mistake the first time, so they're just leaving us to rot here! The first kids born after the showers are starting to have their own kids now. You think we won't see more people end up in Belle Reeve?"

"They haven't found any birth abnormalities or anything in the water table. What are you saying is going on Tom?" She was confused as to where he was going. There had always been ugly mutterings about how the government had left the town to rot because the expense of clearing the meteor rock out and compensating the afflicted would be too big. Though the poisoning conspiracy had got media attention back on the potential affects and dangers of the substance, no federal agency was any closer to admitting it might be anything other than a scientific curiosity. If most of the country's top scientists hadn't been mixed up in work with LutherCorps, she knew there would have been more authoritative work on the meteors. As it was, too many of them had good reasons to keep their mouths shut about the substance.

"No. You won't understand it. You haven't been here these past months. Everyone knows what's going on, but they're too scared to admit it!"

"Admit what?"

"This whole place is haunted. And when the dead rise out of their graves, that's the first sign isn't it?"

"Sign?"

"Of the end of the world." And looking at his trembling hands on the table, she realised he was totally serious.


	8. Chapter 8

The sound of her cell jerked her awake. She fumbled for the flashing phone, pressing it against her ear and mumbling an uncertain,

"H'lo?"

Had she fallen asleep in Chloe's place?

"It's me. I think maybe I wasn't straight enough with you earlier."

She'd been dreaming she realised, and wiped her damp cheeks. Crying in her sleep wasn't a good sign.

"Tom, what time is it?"

"It's nine. I can't stay in this town any longer. I need to get out."

"Sure, sure, you want a fresh start right?" She rubbed her neck. Sleeping on the couch hadn't been a good idea, she'd only intended to rest a while and hopefully catch her cousin when she came home. But venting her feelings in her sleep had left her feeling flat and slow, as if a thick fog had settled around her brain. It seemed like Chloe was pulling another late-nighter because the apartment appeared deserted.

"You're not getting this, didn't you listen to what I said earlier? This whole place is rotten through. I can't stay here another night. I can't sleep here tonight! I can't bear it any longer, don't you understand?" The real panic in Jordan's voice was cutting through her confusion. Something was really wrong with him. She'd been worried when he started talking apocalyptic in the bar but she'd put that down to the booze. Had he kept drinking after she'd shoved him into a cab?

"Okay, I'm listening now, you have my full attention. If you want to get out of Smallville I can drive you into Metropolis."

"Okay, okay, that could work," he let out a deep breath.

"How about I come over to your place now and we can talk some more. You sound like you could use a friend." He laughed.

"You auditioning for that job? You don't have to pretend to like me Lois. I'm going to give you your story." Lois punched the air and did a little silent dance, before switching the phone to her other ear and gathering her purse.

"Against my better judgement Tom, I think I kind of like you, story or no story. But don't go getting any funny ideas, my first babysitter was a Navy SEAL." Tom chuckled.

"I don't doubt it. Come over then. I'll get some stuff together, if you're serious about the lift?"

"Of course. But you should be warned; I break suddenly and often."

He seemed relaxed again now, chatting to her about how to find his house as she got into her car, throwing her jacket and bag on the passenger seat. He paused after finishing his directions and she decided now was as good a time as any to tackle the 'End of Days' elephant in the room.

"You were worrying me earlier you know Tom. All that Biblical doom isn't you usual style."

"I guess you're wondering what's got me so riled up."

"I was curious."

"It wasn't the drink talking earlier you know. There are ghosts in this town, and they're all pretty angry." Lois looked out at the dark street. She could almost believe when Smallville was as still like this that the past was able to reach out into the now. She pushed away those thoughts, it was just the residual effect of the dream and Tom's strained voice spookng her out. He was under a lot of pressure, a certain amount of paranoia was understanable. Except this sounded much more than that.

"I take it you're not speaking metaphorically."

"This is real Lois, and I'm not crazy!" He said urgently, his agitation rising again. "It's this whole town. They're all seeming them!"

"Who?"

"Ghosts, who else? It started off okay, a few dreams is all. But it got so you didn't feel too good about falling asleep anymore because you couldn't stand to see another face. People didn't talk about it much but we started to work it out."

"Are you saying the whole town is dreaming about the dead?"

"Their dead. The people they've lost, friends, family, even people you hardly knew. Like a kid who died in your class or your old neighbour."

"Someone saw Eric Summers, that's how you knew he was dead?" Lois said. Tom was starting to sound seriously disturbed but though he had his personal problems, he'd never been crazy before. Surely there couldn't be any truth in it, unless it was some mass hallucination. Chloe slept most nights in Smallville though, wouldn't she have mentioned it?

Except maybe that's why she wasn't so eager to come home anymore, and why she had run out of coffee, and why the circles around her eyes were deeper than ever.

"The dreams are never wrong you see. Phyllis down in the market saw her mother one night, and when she woke up, the home called to say she'd passed in her sleep. That's how we knew, with Summers. And how I knew all this trouble was going to come back on me. Why do you think I got my insurance policy sorted? Except now it doesn't seem like such a good idea. I want out of all this. I need out."

"Okay, relax, you can be sleeping safe and sound in Metropolis by tonight." She switched her phone to the hands free and started up the car. She was starting to feel like leaving Tom alone wasn't such a hot idea. He was stringing cogent sentences together but his voice betrayed him. He was unravelling.

"Only what if they don't go you know? The others only see them when they sleep and that's bad enough. But at work things aren't looking so good. Raul didn't come into work today. He never calls in sick. Never. I called his house earlier and he didn't answer. I don't think he's coming back." Lois accelerated slightly. Raul was Tom's safety valve, the solid family man who helped a single addict like Tom stay in touch with his life. Raul hadn't been as eager to talk as his friend during the Mercer story, since he placed his family's financial security above all things. But once he'd seen that a criminal investigation was inevitable, he'd chosen to come under her umbrella of journalistic protection. He was a quiet, thoughtful man, and he didn't call in sick. "He kept seeing his daughter you know, she died when she was only small. He said God would help him bear it but I…I don't know if he…"

"Hold on okay Tom, I'm going to be with you soon." She heard the sound of him weeping quietly and pressed her foot down further on the accelerator. Raul's absence explained why Tom was speeding towards a breakdown, without his friend, Tom was adrift.

"I think I shouldn't have told them about the files. I think that was a bad idea."

"Who Tom, who did you tell?" He had alluded to another party in the bar but she'd thought he was just playing her. Now it sounded more like he'd been using the papers he'd stolen as a bargaining chip with someone else. She dreaded to think who else he might have approached.

"It doesn't matter anymore. None of it matters. I don't think Metropolis is gong to work out. I don't think I can leave them behind."

"I'll be there in fifteen Tom, you just have to hold on until then. I'll be there and then we can talk about it okay?"

"It was only last month you see. We thought that it was just dreams but it wasn't. He didn't tell me for a few days but he saw her. He saw her on the ward. And he couldn't understand what she was saying but…they're so angry with us!"

"Did Raul see his daughter while he was awake?" She was still too far away and even though she was speeding now, it was too dark to really punch it. She had a habit of driving into fields in this town and the last thing she needed was to start appearing in Tom's dreams because she'd rolled the car.

"The patients were acting crazy. Crazier than normal. And we didn't get it. But Raul knew. And then we started to get it too. Because nowhere was safe anymore. They're so mad, like we did something we shouldn't have! I see them out of the corner of my eye all the time now, they never leave." Lois moistened her lips. She wanted to say something soothing but nothing would come out. His fear and the dark roads in front of her were affecting her more than she'd realised. If he was crazy, then he was doing a good job of taking her along with him.

Now his earlier calm seemed like his terror had just taken a deep breath before rolling out again. She was worried what he might do to himself.

"I think I heard them. Can you hear that?" A hissing began to fill her ear, waning and then returning in full as she turned into the long track that led to his house. "It's them." Lois tried to keep her voice steady as she replied,

"It's just the reception out here Tom, you know it can be flaky."

"It's not that." He said bleakly as the hissing was joined by a low creaking noise. Lois fell silent, her hands on the wheel clenched too hard. Then the signal cut out entirely.

"Tom? Tom?" She risked a glance at her cell but the connection had gone. She upped her speed to a reckless level and scanned the road for Tom's house.

By the time she pulled into his drive ten minutes later she had convinced herself both that Tom was totally insane and that he had been dragged into the underworld by a horde of hungry ghosts. His plain one-story house stood 20 metres back from the track, unhealthy looking grasses approaching unkempt levels in the front, and a badly laid path leading to his narrow porch. Light blazed from all the windows around the edges of his blinds but there was no noise. In the darkness, she couldn't see his closest neighbour. He was alone out here.

She knew that something was wrong in that house.

Hoisting her purse onto her shoulder, she marched up to the front door. This was Smallville, not a crackhouse in Suicide Slums.

But that didn't change that she knew there was something inside that she didn't want to see.

She knocked on the door firmly and when that drew no response, she pressed on the buzzer. Her irritation at her own fear prompted her to grab hold of the handle. The door opened with only a nudge. Inside the small hallway was a pinboard covered in flyers and unpaid bills. A drift of junk mail was heaped behind the door. The wall on the right had been decorated with an inspirational poster of a waterfall but despite that there was a faint air of disappointment in the scene in front of her. Like life hadn't turned out quite the way Tom Jordan had imagined when he was in short pants. She also found three closed doors, and one slightly ajar to the left of her. It felt like an invitation she couldn't turn down.

As she pushed it open gently she was confronted with a powerful stench that made her pause. She had stopped before she could open the door all the way and see the rest of the room. She knew what she was going to find now and she really, really didn't want to see it.

But the facts were in there and it was her job to put herself in the room with the facts. She slipped a hand into her bag and pulled out the tub of Vicks vapour-rub she kept there. A cop had recommended it once after she'd almost puked on his shoes during an autopsy. In the end she'd puked on Clark's instead. Dabbing the mixture under her nose, she hoped it would be enough.

She opened the door all the way and found herself in Tom's lounge. A group of leather chairs and a sofa faced a television. The easy chair with its back to her had someone sitting in it, one arm limply resting on the side. Behind the lounge was a narrow pine kitchen, which had been knocked through to another room beyond it that she couldn't see into.

She walked across the room towards the easy chair, the smell growing more and more powerful. She stepped round to face the man in the chair. As soon as her gaze fell upon Tom Jordan, she jerked her head away. Even when she closed her eyes she could still see the slack, grey face and the clumps of meat and bone haloing his head. A revolver was lying on the carpet, inches from his slack fingers.

She staggered back into the couch and sat down abruptly. Making sure to keep her eyes away from the figure in the chair, she looked around the room. The televison was muted but an ad for cholesterol medication was showing. Sitting on top of the television was a limp looking spider plant. She knew the dead couldn't be judged on the spaces they left behind, Maurie's dingy apartment hadn't captured his unique mind, but the house seemed empty of any signs of life. And she suspected it would have seemed that way before Tom and done what he had done. If she was hit by a truck tomorrow would someone go through her place and judge her on its contents? She didn't want to think about what they'd say.

The small table next to her was filled with empty beer cans, and a plate filled with pizza crust. A last meal that she could smell more than she'd like to now. That was one of the saddest things about death Lois found. That humans seemed to become so small and diminished once the soul that had animated them was gone. It didn't need to have come to this. If he had just held on, she could have tried to help him. He didn't need to be alone like this.

As she stared at the television, she took a small breath through her mouth and recognised something was wrong. Underneath the terrible smell that would only grow worse, there was something else. Something out of place. She stood up, and still carefully avoiding looking at the easy chair, she walked into the kitchen. The other smell was strong here too. She looked over to her right through the arch-way, where the wall had been knocked through into the back half of the house.

The light was dimmer here, only two small lamps providing illumination. The room had been set up as a study, with a home computer on a desk where Tom probably did his online gambling. Against one wall was a bookcase, holding blockbuster paperbacks and his medical textbooks. Several folders had been pulled off the shelves and out of the desk and lay scattered over the floor. The man with the gun had probably done that.

He had a cigarette dangling from his lip. He'd been smoking in the house but since she knew Tom hadn't smoked, she had noticed that the smell was out of place. Law enforcement officers sometimes smoked around a dead body, like they sometimes wore Vicks under their nose. Anything to try and mask the smell of a corpse.

The man was a cop, so he knew all about that. That also meant he had plausible reasons that would explain why he was in the house with Tom Jordan's corpse. She stood in the kitchen and stared at him, praying he was going to spin her a line. The moment stretched out, his cigarette still hanging off his lip, and a trickle of sweat meandering down the small of her back. She could see him weighing it up; the likelihood of the lies succeeding versus the problems caused by more desperate action. Then she saw his eyelid twitch, just like Tom's. And that was when she realised he had decided to kill her.


	9. Chapter 9

"I'm not sure you've thought this through," Dinah insisted. "What happened to that super-powered alien brain of yours anyway?"

"I'm not going to discuss it any further," Clark replied, his arms folded across his chest. The group gathered in front of him exchanged looks. The League were some of the only people in the world who didn't look at him strangely when he was wearing his costume but in one respect they viewed him like the wider world did. He was still public property.

The attitude that his powers and status made him a special case in the League was something he had learnt to deal with. He had discussed it with Chloe and Oliver but while they apologised for making him feel uncomfortable, they had several practised speeches on why Superman was different. Superman didn't just belong to Clark Kent, he belonged to the world. Hadn't Lois used that phrase only the previous night?

He had laid himself open to this particular problem when he'd involved them all so closely in the birth of Superman. He had been less sure then of what he intended to do when he revealed himself to the public. He had sought advice from all corners, Lois, John Jones, Jor-El. And the League had been vital in allowing him to live two separate lives.

Despite this, it was hard not to resent being interrogated on decisions that were only his and Lois' concern.

"You should have talked to us about this first," Chloe said. "We've never tested the shield like this before. We'll need to contact Zatanna."

"Do you think there's a danger to its integrity?" Oliver asked the other woman.

"There's more danger that that shrill hack will spill the beans all over town," Black Canary added. Oliver frowned at her. It was no secret that Dinah disliked Lois and was quite happy to be rude about her in front of her friends and even her family. But sustaining the animosity this long seemed inexplicable to Clark. Right now, he couldn't care less. Dinah could venerate Lois as her deity of choice and it wouldn't matter. This wasn't about them.

"Lois isn't a liability," Oliver pointed out. "But it puts her at risk Clark, you've got to admit that." Clark felt himself tense. It was typical of Ollie that he would pick out the one thing that scared him the most about telling Lois. But he wasn't going to be put off any longer. He had told the League as a courtesy, though Lois had already made Chloe suspicious. They had immediately called for a 'crisis meeting' at the Watchtower. He was starting to miss the days when he only had to run his attempts at honesty with a girl past his parents. Oh for the days when Lana Lang's jewellery was an obstacle. Lois could be wearing Kryptonite dentures and it would still be easier to handle than this mess he had created.

But he was coming to see that though his decision was selfish, it wasn't necessarily wrong. For too long he had tried to protect himself from rejection and called it the nobler choice. Though it was hard to ignore the whispers in his head that said she would never accept him, he was going to trust in Lois. She might be angry and she might not be able to feel the same way about him as he did about her, and she might even cut him out of her life but she wasn't going to look at him as if he was a monster. An asshole maybe but not a monster. He'd certainly done enough to deserver the former.

"You say that but who knows how's she going to react when she realises how much he's been lying to her? If you think that isn't going to make her crazy, then you really do know nothing about women, Queen." Oliver narrowed his eyes at her. Dinah thought the whole League were naïve fools but she reserved her toughest judgements for Oliver. Chloe suspected there were some interesting reasons behind that but she hadn't elaborated when Clark had asked.

"She makes a good point," Chloe conceded. "You know what Lois is like when she gets mad Clark, she can make some bad decisions."

"She would never put him danger," Oliver said.

"I'm not saying she's going to tell the world about him but she might do something reckless. You haven't seen her in a while Ollie, she seems okay on the surface but Maurie's illness has made her unpredictable." Chloe sighed and looked sadly at her friend. "I have another worry. When I was talking to her today, the shield was working at its strongest. Her brain is deliberately concealing important facts from her and it's bound to put her mind under some strain. Lois was always the bar we measured its success against because if she didn't realise you were Superman, with all her knowledge about you and your life, then we knew it would work on others."

"What are you saying?" Clark asked with growing horror. He hadn't considered that the shield might damage Lois if she tried to push against it. He had been so focussed on the risk of losing her that he hadn't thought about the physiological impact discovering the truth might have on her.

"The shield has two methods of protecting you. The first counts on human perception, and how the brain processes information." He nodded impatiently. Chloe had gone into a lot of detail at the time they developed the shield, all at a level that was far beyond even the understanding Jor-El's training had granted him of human physiology and psychology. It boiled down to the idea that people would often disregard information if it contradicted their preconceptions or challenged their beliefs. So financial experts could ignore the signs of a looming crash and doting parents could fail to see their darling children were stealing from the collection plate.

Since Superman was a flying, super-strong alien who shot lasers out of his eyes and wore an outlandish costume, he couldn't possibly be anything as pedestrian as a bespectacled college drop-out who still lived in his parents' house and could milk a cow blindfolded.

"Even if someone is confronted with data that seems to link Clark Kent to Superman, they'll refuse to believe it. There are exceptions, people whose brain chemistry enables them to make the connections, and see through the shield. Thankfully they don't usually meet Clark Kent. But memories are different." Smallville was filled to the brim with people who had had recollections of the strange alien things that had happened before Superman appeared. Or who noticed that he seemed to be around a lot when people misusing their meteor-powers were apprehended. These were things they already knew, and it was harder for the shield to disrupt how people perceived knowledge they already had. If people already knew Clark was a super-powered alien, then the shield wouldn't change that. But it was harder for people to make the links from their own memories that would lead them to working out the two identities belonged to the same man. Harder but not impossible, he had to believe that.

Zatanna, Chloe and Dr Emil had worked on the shield for months, fine-tuning the relationship between the magic and Kryptonian technology that made it work, until it was finally ready to be used in his first public appearance. Lois had been the acid test, and the shield had passed with, unfortunately, flying colours. How often had he wished that it didn't work so well. "So the shield also works by refusing the recollect those memories fully, or allow them to be linked to others. But I'm not sure what repeated instances of coming up against the shield will do to her."

"You never mentioned this when we developed it!" Clark said.

"Clark, none of us knew exactly how it was going to work. It's been far more effective than we realised. After all, you've tried to tell her before, haven't you? But even when you took her flying in your shirt and tie, she still didn't believe it."

"Whoa, hold on, when the hell did this happen?!" Oliver stepped in.

Clark ran his hands through his hair. He hadn't mentioned that incident to the League but he could hardly hold it against Chloe for mentioning it, it was pertinent to the conversation.

"After we broke up. I wanted to…I wanted…" It was easy enough to guess where he was going with the sentence. He wanted Lois. He'd tried to deny it for so long but it was no good. Seeing her suffering over the last few months had simply reinforced his desire to be with her. He wanted to be there for her in a way he couldn't as Clark Kent, partner and coffee source. He wanted to kiss her hair, hold her as she slept, spend every waking moment with her. He wanted to grow old with her. If he could grow old.

But even though he had openly displayed his powers in front of her, she had asked him how much he'd been drinking and then kindly suggested he go home and sleep it off. The shield was so powerful, and her division of Kent and Superman so emphatic, that even that couldn't break through it. Maybe he'd been deluded to believe she would be able to see the truth now, just because she was looking at it through her journalistic eyes.

"What if I take the shield off?"

"Clark, you can't be serious," Oliver said.

"I am."

"But if…"

"This is Lois we're talking about." Clark met Oliver's eyes. They didn't agree about a lot of things and they didn't even agree about Lois most of the time. But one thing they did see eye to eye on. Lois Lane was not just anybody. She was special. Oliver's continued affection for her had been the kick into action he needed when he had first asked Lois out. Seeing the billionaire try to win her back had thrown his own feelings for her into stark relief.

Though it had been awkward between them after he had started dating Lois, Oliver had immediately backed off, though he half-joked that in this case, the best man hadn't won. Lois had not taken kindly to that comment. She wasn't a trophy.

After Lois had ended things, Oliver had pointed out that even if Lois wasn't a prize, her dumping them both definitely made them losers. The Green Arrow had had some helpful things to say in the aftermath of his break-up with Lois, and that hadn't really been one of them.

"It won't matter if you do Clark. It has a cumulative effect, it goes on working even if you're not wearing it."

"And if I destroy it?" Chloe raised an eyebrow. She seemed surprised that he would even consider it but then he hadn't been as frank with her as he could have been about how unhappy he was. Work was Chloe's number one priority and she had less and less time to spend on her personal life, including catching up with her friends. She rarely seemed to go home to her own apartment anymore. But he was making excuses. If he really wanted her to know, he could have told her. She would have made time for him. He hadn't wanted to admit how desperate he really was and now he had acted without considering the consequences. He had suspected there would be danger but investigating the murders would bring that regardless of whether she was investigating his past. A threat to her health though, to her mind…the thing that animated her and made her so unique…it was unthinkable.

"The effect would wear off, although I'm not sure at what speed. When we originally ran the projections, the shield had barely started to work. It may take longer than the week we originally estimated. But Clark, it won't come to that okay?" She took hold of his arm. "Lois is my cousin, I'm not going to let her come to any harm, not from something I helped build."

"Well is there anything we can do in the mean time?" Oliver asked.

"The sooner Lois works out Clark is Superman, the less damage the shield can cause her."

"How is he going to do that? Lois can't see the truth when it puts tights on and flies around in front of her. She's pathologically clueless," Dinah snapped.

"Her emotional responses may be able to circumvent the most potent aspects of the shield, since it works on different regions of the brain," Chloe said.

"So, what does that mean?" Clark asked impatiently.

"If you can make her feel the same way about both of your personas, then maybe she'll be able to reconcile the facts."

"She's pissed off with Superman now, so that makes him closer to how she feels about Clark Kent."

"There's another angle you should consider Clark," Chloe said with a wan smile on her face.

"What?"

"Make her experience the same feelings she has for Superman, for Clark Kent."

"That's impossible. She idolises Superman."

"No Clark, she's _in love_ with Superman. You have to try and make her fall back in love with Clark." Clark stared at his friend, a dumbfounded expression on his face. An uncomfortable silence was filling the room. Dinah broke it.

"Let me speak for the room and say we need to work up a Plan B."


	10. Chapter 10

Clark tried to ignore the blaring sirens and focussed his hearing on signs of life. He could hear no human in for the ten miles surrounding the chemical plant. Most animal life had also wisely departed. Unless he could find some way to stop it, a toxic gas was about to explode out of main holding warehouse and poison everything in the immediate vicinity. It would then be blown by the easterly wind towards the small city thirty miles away, contaminating the soil and water on its way, and then slowly killing the half a million people who were still to be evacuated. From his knowledge of the substance being brewed in the soon to erupt tanks inside, those half a million wouldn't die easily or quickly. It could take anything from days to years. But though he had tried to persuade the officials there that they needed to take steps in case in failed to contain the incident, they hadn't listened. They didn't want him here and they didn't need him. The plant was safe and the people around it were safe.

If he made a mistake, a lot of people would die. But he was finding it difficult to focus his entire mind to the problem.

A Plan B. She'd been joking but the comment had stung.

He exhaled deeply, freezing the contents of the third tank. The first two he had been able to repair roughly by using materials from the roof and his heat vision to entomb the chemicals in several inches of metal. But the third's containment had degraded too far for him to have time for this unwieldy patch-up. Instead he was freezing the whole thing. Leaving it in situ wasn't an option, so after carefully examining his repair work a final time he picked up the final tank and flew through the now roofless warehouse and up into the stratosphere.

Flying always made him think of Lois. Even before he had taken her for her first flight with Superman, he had found himself associating this power with her. And with good reason. Up until a few years ago, he had experienced flight but he had never been able to consciously control it. Until she had been able to show him where he was going wrong. She had helped him unlock this last aspect of his Kryptonian biology without even realising.

The day he had learned how to fly he had once again woken up floating several feet above his bed. And once again he hadn't been able to prevent himself crashing down once he regained full awareness. He lay on his back bemoaning the fact that the only way he was going to damage his bed was by dreaming of a woman rather than actually being with one.

For almost seven days in a row he had been plagued by these fantasies of him and Lois together. It wasn't even as if all the dreams were x-rated, some were PG content-wise. But every moment of them seemed saturated with longing and desire, whether the two of them were talking in a Daily Planet scenario, or making out on Krypton with his grade-school teachers applauding behind them.

His dreams had also never caused him to sleep-fly this much. But then he had never dreamed about Lois like this, this much. The root of the problem was her lunch-date with Oliver the other week. Since Ollie had come back into town he had appeared renewed with fresh purpose. He'd spent the last two months in Gotham and had met some interesting people there he'd said. The kind of people that had persuaded him that despite his mistakes, he was still meant to be a hero. Though Clark had initially been glad to see his friend back, with an apparently renewed sense of purpose, he'd quickly discovered that the billionaire was also keen to revive other aspects of his life.

He was interested in Lois again. More than interested, Clark realised, he was still in love with her. He was unsure why the idea was bothering him so much. Lois and Oliver deserved happiness, and if they thought being together was the way to do it, he should be pleased for them. But instead he was furious. He was angry with Queen for presuming that he could stroll back into town, snap his fingers, and Lois would take him back. He'd had his chance with her. Twice. And it hadn't worked. Surely someone else deserved the chance to have a relationship with her. Besides, Lois needed someone who was more of a counterpoint to her. Someone who could be her partner, her team-mate.

She cared about Oliver, he knew that. Loved him even. But not like that, not anymore. Right?

He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. He was going to have no peace from her, day or night it seemed. He was shocked at the intensity of his response to Oliver's pursuit of Lois. Yesterday he had almost set the bouquet he'd sent Lois aflame as she'd smiled at the card attached. The flowers had probably cost a fortune but Lois put no store by that. She cared about the gesture. About the card. The one that had made her smile, made her heart speed up a little.

And he had been steadfastedly ignoring Oliver since Lois had returned from that first lunch-date, with her always maintaining that it was nothing but a casual meeting. But he had seen how distracted she had been since then. Had noticed how she would pause as she was typing to stare at nothing. It had taken a lot of self-restraint to prevent him from running over to Oliver's office and demand he back off.

He was jealous. And the emotion stirred up in his dreams were making it all worse. Every day he had to watch Oliver trying to claw his way back into Lois' affections. Every night he was the one raising a smile to her lips, causing a blush to spread across her cheeks.

It had been almost eight weeks since he had kissed her and since then he had done nothing more. Lois and he were back where they had been again. He had managed to repair the damage caused by his absence following Jimmy's death. Why would he disturb the status quo by trying to change their relationship? Kissing her had been an instinctual response, one he wanted to be able to ignore. But it was getting to be too much. He didn't want to keep his distance from her anymore.

After a long, cold shower, and a quick stop off at a car accident and an attempted mugging, he arrived at the Planet to find Lois absent from her desk. A half-eaten muffin said she had been in and judging by the still warm contents of her coffee mug, she couldn't have gone far. He settled down on his chair and as he turned on his computer, he let his attention wander, the sounds of the building slowly rolling over him. The sound of Lois in full tilt caught his attention.

"…raw talent chief, and it's never going to be…"

And he remembered he was late for a meeting with Perry and Lois, a meeting that had clearly already started without him. It sounded like Lois was giving her new editor a piece of her mind about her status at the paper. After the poisoning story Lois had been convinced that the new editor was finally going to give her the recognition she deserved and assign her some big stories. But that hadn't happened. Although Perry had decided the two of them would make a good partnership, the only things they'd been working on recently had been run of the mill stories. Lois wanted something juicier and she intended to browbeat Perry until he gave it to her. He just had to reach her before she went from charming-persuasive to waterboarding-persuasive.

As he walked closer to the office he could hear Lois' slowly escalating loudness and not a peep from the chief. He knocked on his office door, and without waiting for an answer, walked in. Lois was already on her feet and Perry was leaning back in his chair, seeming quite unruffled.

Lois broke off to glare at him, her look saying both, 'Late, again? Really?' and 'What's the deal with your tie?' He adjusted his tie, realising he hadn't quite put his work outfit back on properly after rescuing a mugging victim. Lois was immaculately turned out of course, looking gorgeous in a dark red blouse and suit skirt, her long hair pulled away from her face. She was not being helpful. She'd been wearing the exact same outfit in his dream last night before asking for his help in removing it.

He'd been happy to assist.

He mumbled an apology to them both and sat down. Lois had been knocked off her stride by his arrival so Perry took the opportunity to cut in.

"Lane, the two of you are still learning the ropes, and this paper has some talented and experienced staff who are eager to get their new boss' attention. Now I admire your chutzpah and you landed a great story with the meteor rock gang. But your turn will come."

"Oh please, all due respect chief," and Clark winced, that phrase did not bode well, "but you're talking out of your ass."

"What Lois means to say is…" Clark added quickly but Lois turned towards him and said firmly,

"Exactly what I said. How can that article not convince you that there's something special there?" Clark glanced at the desk, where yesterday's edition was lying in front of their boss. "It's got everything a true reporter needs! It's smart, it's punchy, it's funny. Hell, it's even moving. That bit at the end, when that poor woman's talking about the memorial service for her children, Bitsy and Misty? That could make grown men weep. I even felt a little teary."

Perry was apparently confused. "Lois, it's a report on a dog show." Clark looked at her. She hadn't written a piece on the dog show.

"Exactly! They make me come out in rashes, and that woman was unhealthily attached to those schnauzers. But that article made me care. I'm not saying its perfect but there is raw talent there chief and you need to give it the stories it deserves." She was talking about his piece. She was talking about him. Lois shrugged slightly. "And maybe I'm not the right partner for him."

"What?" He was on his feet now, staring at with total shock. Where was all this coming from?

"Look Clark, I'm not going to apologise for looking after your best interests. And maybe this partnership won't work as well for you as it would for me. You let me take the lead too often because you're a nice guy, it's not fair on you." Though she sometimes rode rough-shod over his opinions, like having a meeting with their boss to talk about _his_ career, as if she was his mother, she had the best intentions. The fact she was even up here, that she even thought he had potential, that she was fighting for him, was everything. Was she trying to protect him from herself? The idea of not working with her was unthinkable. She was not doing this.

"No. We're partners, and that's it," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her return.

"Oh, so you think what you say, goes?"

"Yes."

"Newsflash, Smallville. Until I die and make you the boss, you are not the boss!"

"We are partners," he repeated.

Perry cleared his throat. "If the man who actually makes the decisions around here could get a word in…? Thank you. Now Lane, I don't want to hear anymore of this B.S. from you. You two are working together, end of. But you made one or two good points amongst your attempt at career suicide. If you want good stories, you have to fight for them. And I see you want to fight for them. Go and tell Torres that I want you on the embezzling story with the banker." Lois looked about to say something else but he said firmly, "Go." She nodded and left, casting once last irritated look over her shoulder at Clark.

He tried to avoid looking at Perry directly. Things had got just a little embarrassing and he wasn't sure what part was worse; looking like he needed Lois to fight his battles for him or arguing with her in their usual style in front of the editor. He hadn't realised how much the tension he was feeling around her had been getting to him. He had to try and control his reactions to her better.

"Clark, normally I would steer well clear of this. I'm your boss, not your nursemaid. But I owe you. So whatever your strategy is for dealing with your partnership, I'd pick a Plan B." Clark wasn't sure how to respond, so he simply nodded and waited for Perry to dismiss him. Once he got back to their desks he discovered she'd taken off, clearly not keen to talk to him. But it wasn't too hard to find her once he concentrated on the sound of her voice, her breathing, her heart. He wasn't sure when he had picked up this bloodhound trick with Lois and he didn't want to think about it too closely.

She was sitting in a diner two blocks away, picking at a pile of pancakes. Once she saw him enter she gave up on the attempt and slumped back in her seat. He settled in the cramped booth opposite her and she began to drum her nails on the table-top.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about? Apart from being really out of line." She bristled at his tone.

"I was trying to do you a favour. It's dog eat dog okay, and you're the adorable kitten. You need to get in the game Clark, or they'll walk all over you! Especially me."

"Adorable?" He said with some annoyance. Having Lois label him as cute and harmless would be frustrating at any time but given how things had changed between them, it was especially maddening now. He wanted to be able to show her he was far from ineffectual. "I can handle myself and I can handle you. But that doesn't matter right now. What were you talking about, ending our partnership?"

"Like I said, you'd be better off." She set her jaw and jabbed her fork into the food in front of her.

"Is this about Oliver?" She looked confused. "Now you're getting back with him, are you…"

"We're not getting back together," Lois cut in.

"Oh." A buoyant feeling was starting to fill his chest. Could he really still have a chance? Because that was what he wanted he understood. He wanted a chance with her. Up in Perry's office he had had a glimpse of it all crumbling away from him. Friendship was no longer enough, he couldn't pretend that it was. He couldn't pretend that he hadn't noticed she was beautiful, that the sound of her laugh eased the weight off his shoulders. Or that when he had kissed her all those weeks ago that he hadn't relished those brief moments of contact, or burned the feel of her in his arms and the taste of her lips into his mind.

"Right. Oh." She shovelled some food into her mouth half-heartedly. "Not that it's any of your business."

"What happened?" He asked gently. He didn't want to sound too pleased, especially since she might be devastated.

"He…he still…" She stared down at the limp pancakes and sighed. "I can't do it. I care about him, I do. I love him." Clark drew in a sharp breath, his fragile hope suddenly wavering but she spared him in the next moment. "But not like that. Not anymore. I thought that…but it's not right between us. I spoke to him last night and it wasn't easy. But it's the right thing."

"Is there someone else?" He asked, his voice a low murmur. She lifted her head to stare right back at him.

"What do you think Smallville?" He realised their knees were touching under the table. He didn't dare move in case she noticed, or had she already known? Did she realise they were both leaning over the table, her left hand almost touching his own? If he moved his finger just a few millimetres…or moved his mouth to her own…A strange prickling sensation was blooming all over his skin as he looked into her eyes.

Then he felt himself drift off the floor. In a panic he moved his legs and the spell was broken. Lois pulled away and picked up her purse, sliding out of the booth. He was now firmly back on the ground but the shock was evident all over his face. Unfortunately she had no way of knowing that his look of panic was to do with him achieving flight while he was awake for the first time in his life. From the look on her face, she read something quite different into his reaction.

"I guess I should have known," she said flatly, avoiding his eyes. "Don't come after me Kent, I don't want to speak to you."

She had walked out and he could only stare after her, his heart gripped with equal measures of joy and terror. After all these years, he had finally worked it out. And he wasn't sure if he meant Lois or flying.

--------------

Twelve hours later he had stood in the dark field beside the farmhouse and waited as Chloe walked over to him. She looked exhausted and annoyed but she had come when he'd asked. She always came when he asked her. He had deserted her when she had needed him the most but she still had faith in him. He didn't deserve the gift of her friendship. But tonight, maybe he could pay a little of that faith back.

"Clark, I have had the worst day. I've had no luck on the Kandorian front, I dropped my favourite earring down the sink and I have seriously overdosed on caffeine. Unless you're…"

"I have something to show you," he said.

"Okay, you kind of already said that. What is it? You look like…I don't know what you look like. You look crazy happy. You didn't ask Lois to marry you did you?" She asked wryly.

"Not exactly. Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do," she said uneasily. "What is it Clark, you're weirding me out. Come to think of it, you haven't been this chipper since you were butting heads on the football field."

"I promise not to drop you." He picked her up in his arms and Chloe let out a yelp.

"Okay, freaking me out a lot, what the hell are you doing?!"

"I did it Chloe!" He said, his voice sounding dazed even to his ears. "I finally did it!"

"Oh no," she said with dawning comprehension.

"Oh yes!" He laughed and flew twenty metres off the ground and then stopped, suspended in the air as the grass rustled below them. Chloe shrieked and grabbed hold of his shirt. Tearing her eyes away from the distant ground, she looked at him with amazement.

"You did it. You really, really did it. You did it!" And she let out a whoop of joy, before bursting out into laughter. "My best friend can fly!" She hugged him tight and he found himself joining in her laughter. As she calmed down she looked back down at the ground nervously. "You know Clark, I'm starting to get that whole fear of heights thing of yours. Could we, descend a little, maybe?" He smiled at her and landed, before letting her get back on her feet. "Wow. Wow." She let out a deep breath. "Wow."

"You said that already."

"I know. Wow."

Clark grinned, "It is pretty wow isn't it? You should see what it's like further up Chloe, you've never seen anything so beautiful." Chloe took a small step back.

"Maybe another day, let a girl adjust first."

"Of course." Her reaction was understandable but part of him was certain that the person he had first thought of calling would have wanted to see more, would have wanted to fly as high as she could. As soon as he had picked up the phone he had realised he couldn't call her, though he wanted to share this discovery with her instinctively. It was right that Chloe be here for this though. He owed her so much and she knew more than most what gaining this ability meant to him.

She deserved to share in this success. But despite all that, she wasn't the first person he had wanted to share it with.

"How did you do it? I didn't even know you were practising."

"I wasn't. At least, not awake." And he explained how he'd been dreaming and flying. And that today in the diner he had risen a few centimetres off the floor. Chloe pressed him for details, but overlooking his vague and embarrassed references to 'intense dreams'.

"I don't know how to explain it," he sighed, his blood still thrumming with the exhilaration he'd experienced since he'd come back home and realised he had finally claimed the most elusive power. The last few hours had been some of the most incredible of his life. He had never realised how fantastic it would be to fly. Why had Kara never told him? "When I concentrated on how I felt at that moment, I was able to do it."

"And what was this feeling?"

"It was like I…I was invincible."

"Clark, you are invincible."

"No, this was different. I felt really invincible. Like I could do anything, be anything. As if I could see the whole world falling into sync with me and everything was…perfect. I'm not explaining this very well."

"No, I think I'm getting the idea," she said gently, trying to hide a grin.

"But it wasn't just that. I also felt…this is stupid." She smiled encouragingly. "I felt safe. Does that make sense?"

"Like you were understood."

"Right."

"And this is what helped you fly?"

"Because I knew I could do it. And even if I didn't, it didn't matter. I wasn't afraid anymore." It all still sounded so unreal to him. He had been so afraid of failing for so long, how had being with her in that diner been able to banish those feelings?

"Jor-El always said it was because you wouldn't embrace being a Kryptonian," Chloe mused. "That you had to cut your ties to have full control over your abilities. But he had it all wrong."

"How do you mean?"

"It's your connection with a human that's allowed you to do this." She looked at him curiously "There was always something between you and her but I didn't think it would be like this."

"There's not…it's not like that between us," Clark said falteringly. She looked at him scornfully.

"Clark. Do you love her, or not? Because that moment you described, the incredible rush but also this stillness inside, I've felt that way before. When I was with him." Her eyes filled with tears but her voice was still steady. "And I felt I could be anything, do anything, as long as I could look at his face. But just being who I was was okay too because he was there beside me. That's how it is when you're with her, isn't it?" He nodded. "Then you need to stop pretending Clark. Do you love her, or not?" Her voice was sharper now.

And he had been able to give her an answer, at long last.

That day, when he learnt to fly, that was why she filled his thoughts whenever he rose above the clouds. As he ascended into the highest reaches of the atmosphere, he felt those same old sensations that he had described to his friend. Up here, with the Earth falling away beneath him and the power of the sun flooding him with strength, he felt it all again. Like a deep breath being held for one long moment.

Then he burst free of the planet's gravity and he began the long journey towards the sun. The chemicals could be safely disposed of there, the best option he could think of yet to get rid of some of the more dangerous substances. As he hurtled the tank towards the star, he found himself wondering if he could have prevented this damage by saying different things to her that night. He had flown to Metropolis after speaking with Chloe. He had knocked on her door, demanded she let him in. He had told her things he hadn't understood until only a few hours before. He had changed everything.

But he hadn't told her the wonderful thing she had done for him by almost touching his hand, by telling someone a story about a woman's dead pets had made her tear up. That one moment without fear she had given him had saved countless lives. Had saved her own.

No, he really hadn't done right by Lois. He watched as the metal object was pulled inexorably towards the firestorm of the sun's surface. He didn't know of any power in the galaxy that could stop its course now. He understood gravity well enough and he could defy it if he needed to. But some things weren't as easily resisted. It didn't matter how high or far he flew, eventually a greater force would pull him into her orbit.


	11. Chapter 11

Ten Ways to Win Your Man. She'd skimmed through dozens of those articles and they contained the same refrain. Learn to listen. Ask him questions about himself. Don't dominate the conversation.

Even when she'd been sneaking a read of her Mom's old Cosmos in grade school, as soon as she'd got to that part, she'd always given up on the magazine and tried to find the General's back issues of Soldier of Fortune instead. Ten Ways to Tag Your Man was more like it.

From the way it was always intoned, being mouthy was supposed to be a bad thing. But keeping schtum when she had something to say made no sense. Besides, how could you win an argument if you were busy perfecting how to look struck dumb and sexy? Words were a valuable weapon. And Hot Tip number three in Ten Ways to Win Your Fight, after 'Fingernails in the eyes' and 'Mace' was 'Talk them down'.

Unfortunately when Jordan's killer had smashed her head into the mirror on the lounge wall, he had momentarily knocked all the words out of her head. So she was having to fall back on the untested tactic of looking like she was listening very hard. Hey, maybe she could score a phone number!

Mostly though, he was shouting at her. "You shouldn't be here. What are you doing here?" He kicked her leg as she slumped against the wall. She yelped and tried to move herself away. But the pain pulsing through the back of her head was making co-ordinating her limbs difficult. She also couldn't think how to get away. The magazines never factored head injuries into their scenarios. Instead of concentrating on the issue at hand, she was thinking about Clark. She wanted to see him. He always made her feel better. He made all the bad things recede into the distance. She really needed him right now. "No Clark here you stupid bitch! Why couldn't you just stay away huh?" She'd said his name out loud. How funny. Calling for Superman would be more practical but somehow she couldn't work up the energy to say his name too.

A hot wet feeling was pooling on the back of her skull. She groaned and blinked to clear her vision. The gun was still pointed at her but his hand was shaking. There was something wrong with him she realised. A trickle of blood was running down his cheek. The glass she'd thrown at him when she'd first seen him must have made contact after all. She could enjoy that fact later if he didn't blow her brains out.

If he did, Clark would have the last word forever. That couldn't stand. All she needed to do was find some way to kick this guy's ass.

"If you hadn't come sticking your nose in, none of this would have happened! This is your fault!" And the hand steadied as he aimed the gun at her head again. It wasn't just that he was bleeding. There was something else wrong with this guy. Something beyond the killer-cop situation. "He shouldn't have tried to scam us!" A low moaning noise was coming from close by, a low creaking. The deputy, Jim was his name she remembered, seemed to notice it too, and slid his eyes towards the chair where Tom was sitting. Or had been sitting. Or was still sitting? That could wait for later too. "They shouldn't be here. I can't…" He rubbed his eyes hard with his free hand. "I can't deal with them anymore. What do they want from me?" He yelled at her, as if she might have the answers.

What was wrong with Jim, the dirty cop, was what had been wrong with Tom. He was seeing things. He was unravelling. That maybe wasn't in her favour. Crazy was hard to handle.

He'd worked at the asylum, in security. He'd been hired after the government had scoured away all the rot. But Tom had mentioned he had gone into local law enforcement in Smallville. She'd seen him around town while he was in uniform. She'd caught him looking at her funny a few times but then cops and reporters weren't always the best of friends. And a lot of Smallville residents had lost their jobs or their freedom following the LutherCorp experiments expose. She didn't spend as much time in the Talon as she had.

Now Jim seemed like he was caught up with the new problems in Belle Reeve. Tom had been trying to sell the records on the Summers and Ingerson switch back to him. Blackmail was not the kind of pressure Jim evidently felt up to shouldering right now. She let his eyes flick back to the easy chair as her hand moved to cover the glass lying next to her. A nice shard would do the job. Improvise. That tip was in Cosmo _and_ Soldier of Fortune.

"You don't know what you've walked into, do you? Do you know what kind of mess this is? They said it was all being handled but they lied." He leant over her, reaching out a hand to grab hold of her hair. As he began to yank her forward, she thrust the glass sliver into his thigh with all her strength. He let out an agonised yell and fell backwards. Lois braced herself against the floor and pushed herself towards him, grabbing the gun he had dropped beside him. Once she had it in her hand she scooted backwards, keen to put some distance between them. Jim was clutching his leg, making a high-pitched keening noise.

"Okay. Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to call the cops and they're to come take care of you. Right now…" She tried to settle her breathing as she reached behind her head. She was definitely bleeding but nothing felt too smushy. Of all nature's gifts to her, her thick skull was one of her favourite. She had road-testing its durability plenty over the years. "Right now I need to take a moment." Lois sat up on the couch so she could keep a better aim on the now sobbing policeman. She should probably call the cops soon, there was a chance she had done some serious damage, though he wasn't decorating the walls with arterial spray yet. But she wasn't about to make a tourniquet for the guy, her whole body ached from where he had smashed her against the wall and kicked her in the leg. She was just lucky he hadn't broken anything. She was lucky she wasn't dead.

He stopped crying suddenly and reached down towards his foot. A moment too late she realised her mistake. Pat him down for concealed weapons. That was in both the magazines as well. And now he was pointing a snub-nosed revolver from the ankle holster at her.

His grip was even unsteadier now but at a range of four feet, he couldn't really miss. She could try and get Tom and his chair in between them but playing OK Corral with a corpse and a lounge set didn't sound workable. Maybe they were back to Hot Tip Three again.

"Let's not get too excited. We both want something out of this situation and I don't see why we can't both get what we want." The adrenaline coursing through her body meant she could keep her hand and voice steady but that would wear off. Whereas he was a cop and even with a glass spike in his leg and a bad case of the Haley Joels, he was the better bet for holding his act together. "I want to live. Now, what do you want?"

"What do I want?" He gasped. He began to laugh. "Out of this 'situation'? You've got to be kidding me!"

"You must want something. You were looking for something, his copies of the Belle Reeve records right?"

"Do you think that matters anymore," he spat as he balled his free hand into a fist and pressed it against the top of his leg. "This whole thing has gone to hell! It went to hell weeks ago. You're just the icing on the damn cake." The house let out a low moan again as the wind whistled round the walls outside. His screwed his eyes shut and began to let out a terrified groan.

"You can see them, can't you?" Lois whispered. His eyes snapped open.

"He told you then."

"He was going to leave Smallville. He thought if he left, the ghosts wouldn't follow him. You can leave too. And it will be a lot easier to escape if you don't have a dead reporter as baggage."

"You don't get it, do you? You can't see! But you'll see them alright, soon enough. Every day it gets worse, soon nowhere will be safe from them."

"We can fix this Deputy."

"No, I can fix it." And the strain disappeared from his face, replaced by a flat smile. "The living were never supposed to hear them." She realised what he was about to do as his posture relaxed but she could only watch, disbelieving, as he lifted the gun to underneath his chin, and pulled the trigger.

She closed her eyes. She kept them closed for a long time.

When she opened them she first noticed that she was still aiming the gun where he had been sitting. She lowered her arm. Everything seemed swaddled in a warm fuzz. Her hearing was muffled. Had she heard the gunshot? She didn't remember it.

She placed the gun on her floor by her feet and held onto the edge of her seat tightly, as if to steady herself. She supposed she was swaying a little. There was a gunpowder smell in the air now, she recognised that. And the body was sprawled awkwardly on the carpet, hardly a metre away from the first man he had killed that evening. She didn't want to look at that anymore. She didn't want to see. Awkwardly she got to her feet. She was aware her head still hurt and her leg was sore but that seemed very remote. She needed to have a plan of action. There was a procedure she should follow in this situation. She needed to think. She made her way back to the kitchen. Her purse was lying on the ground, so she picked it up. She needed her phone first. As she opened it up, she noticed the reception seemed to be unaffected in the house. Earlier with Tom had to have been a blip.

She dialled the number she needed and went through to voicemail.

"Clark? Hey, it's me. Can you come to Smallville? I'm there now and I need you to drive me home. My meeting with my contact went kind of badly. And I need…I need…" She clamped her hand over her mouth and drew in a sharp breath. She had to hold it together. That was important. "I really need to see you. I might not be able to answer my phone for a while but I should be in Smallville Medical Centre okay?" She ended the call. There was some other people she needed to speak to she guessed. First she bent over the sink and vomited.

But it would be okay. Clark would be here soon and he would help her. He would take her somewhere these things wouldn't touch her. Somewhere without the dead.

As she stared down at the plughole, she recalled that someone had said those words to her before. She had been somewhere hot, sun lotion slathered onto her skin, the tang of chlorine close by, and a sun lounger underneath her. Somewhere beautiful, somewhere death and pain should have seemed as hazy as the air.

"I don't think we're ever supposed to hear them."

"Hear who Chlo?" She had adjusted her head minutely to look at her cousin. She was stretched out in the sun, just like her. But the light didn't seem to make her skin warmer, it just seemed to slide round her. There was something very wrong with her cousin.

"The dead." There was no expression in her voice. It was all still. She had been like this since she had woken up, all the way through the discharge from the hospital and the ride to the airstrip and the time in the jet. Even with Oliver's dollars easing their way through an already luxurious beach resort, she was still like this. It was supposed to be R&R after she'd over-worked herself helping Queen Industries out of its financial mire following Tess' arrest. It was meant to be all pina coladas and walks in the sand. But nothing would animate her.

"What are you talking about?"

"You ever wonder, if you could see your Mom again, just once, what you'd say to her?"

"Of course," Lois said softly. Chloe was still staring blankly through her sunglasses. She might as well have been discussing her tax return.

"Of course you have," Chloe echoed. "Lois Lane, always knows what to say, and when she doesn't, she makes it up anyway." It didn't sound like a joke. Chloe didn't talk like this, who was this person beside her? What had happened to her to put her in that hospital bed? "You ever wonder what she'd say to you? You ever think about what she'd think about who you are, what you've become?"

"I..." It was a stupid, hurtful question. Of course she did. She wondered all the time. What judge could be more condemning than a voice from beyond the grave? Whose opinon mattered more than the one she couldn't hear?

"I bet she'd have something to say. And you'd have to listen. Every word would imprint on your brain."

"I guess they would. Is this about Jimmy?" Chloe didn't respond. "Are you wondering what he'd say to you?"

"What do you think he'd say?" It seemed like a trick question but Lois wasn't sure why. It was important she get the answer right.

"I think he'd be proud of you." Chloe smirked.

"You think, huh?" It had been the wrong answer. Chloe got off her lounger slowly, as if every movement was a trial. She was supposed to be in fine physical shape now. She hadn't damaged herself after collapsing. There was nothing medically wrong with her. "Like I said, we're never supposed to hear what they have to say." There was a strange look on her face now, a pleased, calm look. She'd turned and dived into the pool, leaving the conversation behind her as if it had never happened. She felt a strange shifting in her thoughts as she leaned over the sink and the fragments coalesed into a image. Now Lois could see the two of them, the dead cop and widow in her memories, side by side. She could hear those two near-identical statements and see how at those two moments they had both been thinking the same thing. They had both wanted to die.

Her stomach flipped again and she choked. She hadn't been listening.


	12. Chapter 12

"We can still go to your place, if you've changed your mind?"

"It's fine Clark, the farm's closer and it makes more sense." He didn't question her any further and she was grateful. By all logic she should want to put as much distance between her and this town as possible but right now the thought of the Kent Farm was helping sustain her. It was safety. She didn't know why she still felt that way after all these years. It probably had a lot to do with the man beside her.

He had arrived soon after her at the medical centre. He'd been writing a piece on Superman's intervention in a chemical disaster for the first edition when he'd got her message and driven straight to her side. The cops had kept him out for a while but eventually he had talked his way round the Sheriff to see her. His face when he'd arrived at her bedside had almost made her break down into tears.

He wasn't looking distraught right now. Instead, he looked angry. Quietly furious. She knew he wouldn't talk about it with her because he believed his reaction was an irrelevance in the face of what she had been through but she wished he would berate her or rail at the cops or even curse the dead deputy. Because she felt the same way. Along with feeling ashamed and afraid and guilty and a hundred other things she didn't know how to put a label on it yet.

But instead he was speaking calmly and gently and staring at her when he thought she was looking out of the window. Despite the boiling mess of emotions in her stomach, his presence did have the softening effect she had prayed for earlier. He was taking her somewhere safe. She was safe with him.

Right now, with the local police department seemingly compromised by a conspiracy with Belle Reeve, safety was something she prized. More than that though, it didn't matter what she said or thought tonight, he wouldn't judge her. She trusted him totally to accept her in her worst moments. He'd earned it.

"Adams isn't stupid, she's going to realise you missed a lot out of your story." He said this matter of factly, as if they were discussing any ordinary story.

"I know. And I trust her. But I can't trust the rest of them. Until I know for sure that the rot stopped at him, I'm not telling them anything." She glanced over at him. "You agree, don't you?"

"In this case, yes. It's too dangerous to let them know more. But it's not a totally sound strategy Lois."

"I know. But what other choice do I have?"

"Emigrate?" She shot him an annoyed look which he caught. "Okay, I've said it once and now it's out of my system. You can't blame me though. You were in a lot of trouble there," he said this even more gently than before and her eyes welled up. The fact he was treating her so tenderly was scaring her because if he was talking like this, it meant things really were serious and she really had nearly got herself killed and she really was up to her neck in something ugly.

It had happened before though, why was this one so bad?

"I hate it when I lose sources," she said. He nodded, knowing she was thinking of Kate Roberts. As a journalist you felt a certain responsibility towards the people you relied on for information. They put themselves at various degrees of risk for all kinds of motivations, some purer than others but once you began to work together, a bond was formed. She owed people like Jordan and it was her job to shield the from some of the dangers. She'd failed him. If she'd got there earlier, if she'd stayed with after the bar, if, if, if…

"You couldn't have saved him Lois, you know that. He was trying to extort money out of them. And Jim Weathers was unstable. Adams said he'd been on sick leave for two weeks already. His doctor had signed him off for stress. She's not saying anything about ghosts though."

"Can you blame her? We don't even have any proof that this thing extends beyond Jordan and him. It could be one of those, whatever, shared delusions."

"Folie a deux."

"Right." Clark didn't respond. "Right?"

"Maybe."

"You think there's something in it? Have you been seeing them?"

"No. But maybe it's connected to Belle Reeve in some way. Maybe it only affects certain people. But the town has seemed…tense lately. I haven't spent as much time here recently as I used to. Work and stuff."

"Do you think Chloe…do you think she's seen anything?" The painful conversation she had recalled earlier made this question even more important. If she was right, and Chloe had been brought so low by losing Jimmy, what would the actual sight of his ghost do to her?

"You'll have to ask her." He sighed. "But she's been more stressed than usual lately. She's been going out to the cemetery a lot the last few weeks." To see Jimmy. When was the last time she had been out there? After yesterday's funeral, the idea of going back to a grave seemed unbearable. How many of the promises she had made to him had she kept? Had she kept the woman he died for safe? She'd thought that Chloe had begun to claw her way back to a normal life but now she doubted her judgement entirely. If she hadn't been able to see she was in so much pain, what was she missing now?

Clark couldn't have known she was in such despair, he would surely have told her. But with nothing more than a disturbing conversation from almost two years to go on, she wasn't about to raise the topic now. It was a hunch. A very belated hunch, mostly down to the similar words coming from a crazy man's mouth. It wasn't much of anything to go on.

"I don't know Clark, ghosts? Real ghosts? Some days I don't even believe in an afterlife, let alone spirits determined to have the last word," she sighed, her fingers drumming on her thigh. Somehow the smell of her would-be killer's cigarette had made her desperate for one herself. She almost laughed out loud at the thought. Maybe instead of murdering her with a bullet between the eyes, the cop could finish her off from the grave by making her take up smoking again. "Though you'd better believe I would be coming back to set you straight if I died first."

"I can believe it," he smiled.

"Me defying all natural laws is standard though…this? This I can't swallow."

"Stranger things have happened in Smallville," Clark pointed out. "We're going to have to rethink this whole thing. Whoever Summers' killer is, it may turn out that the people who enabled his release are far more dangerous. The people at Belle Reeve either acted themselves or on behalf of someone else but either way they'll be even more desperate now to cover things up. Even if Weathers wasn't following orders by killing Jordan, if they're exposed, they're looking at serious jail time."

"But until we know that there aren't other cops on their payroll, we can't let the police handle this." Clark looked at her briefly, his brow heavy with the knowledge of the terrible situation she had found herself in. "We both know that to protect myself, I'm going to have to pursue this." She could see he was growing distressed again so she tried to appeal to his reason. "I've been in worse spots Clark, don't panic."

"I got you into this one." His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "I was insane."

"You think you could have kept me away from this? If I hadn't been out of the office so much recently, Perry would have handed me this one, so forget it. If it's got Superman's name on it, it's got my name on it," she said sourly.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Maybe I don't want 'Number One Super-fan' on my gravestone."

"Lois, Superman doesn't define you. You were the one who helped define him." Lois frowned at him as they pulled into the farm's front yard.

"How do you work that one out?"

"He owes you more than you realise."

"Yeah, I helped him come out of his extra-terrestrial closet," she snapped. "My professional services have been much appreciated." She grabbed her purse and got out of the truck. The cops had confiscated her clothes for forensic testing but fortunately they hadn't kept her bag, or the items she had secreted in the lining. But as for clothes, she was reduced to wearing one of her reserve outfits, rescued by Clark from her car, which she kept for puking, bleeding, drenching emergencies. For some reason, if there was a mess to be made, she was splatter central and Smallville was left pristine. Clark followed her to the front door, an unhappy expression on his face. As he removed his keys, he paused.

"Anyone who reads the Planet, no, anyone who reads, knows that you mean more to Superman than just that. They did a feature on you in the Enquirer on you carrying his alien lovechild Lois. Why do you think I worry so much about your relationship with him? It's always made you a target." Lois ducked her head. Clark had never spoken about her and Superman in this way before. It was easier if they didn't acknowledge she wasn't an entirely objective reporter when it came to the superhero. So why the hell was he starting now? Weathers hadn't been trying to pop her because she was standing in the way of a love affair with the Kryptonian.

"Clark, the reasons those stories and jokes are so lame is because they have no basis in fact okay? There's nothing between us and there never has been!" Clark didn't seem consoled by this so she continued, "And I would have thought you of all people would know better than to believe all those nasty jokes made at my expense!"

"Don't be crazy, you know I think all those stories are trash." He took hold of her arm and stared at her in that Other Clark Kent way. The way that made her feel slightly light-headed, as if he had x-ray vision and was looking straight through to her brain. He was also standing a little too close to her. They didn't stand like that and the 'good friends' line was about ten inches behind him. He wasn't noticing though, instead he was still talking at her. "But I also know that he doesn't look for you first in the press scrum because of the stories you write."

"Then why?" She shrugged off his hand and snatched the keys from him, jamming them into the lock.

"Because you're Lois Lane, that's why." She looked up at him and was jolted by a flash of something she hadn't felt in a long time. Clark had a habit of going missing at awkward moments but he also had a talent for making you believe there was no one else he'd rather be with. When he said things like his last utterance, she had no doubt he meant every word. Unfortunately, with him standing so close and her having such a crappy day, she was feeling more than just gratitude for his generosity of spirit in staging a defence of her irresistability.

She was feeling like she wanted to run her hand over the front of his shirt, thread the other hand through his hair and pull him down towards her so she could…

"Okay, he hit my head a lot harder than I thought," she groaned and pushed the door open. Clark hurried after her, pressing his hand to her forehead and staring in her eyes.

"The pain's getting worse? Are you okay? You feel a little hot. Maybe we should get you back to the hospital…"

"Oh god."

"You're definitely feeling too warm. Your cheeks are flushed Lois!"

"I'm fine." She struggled away from him again but he was still peering at her intently.

"Your pupils are dilated. I'm taking you back right now."

"God help me Clark, quit playing Doctor with me!" As soon as the innuendo-laden words left her lips she regretted them. Clark seemed unperturbed though.

"Sorry. Are you alright?" She nodded miserably. "Okay. I'm going to run you a bath. And get you some night clothes. But you're not getting any sleep tonight," he said gravely and left to go upstairs, not noticing her wince at his last comment.

"Doesn't look like it," she sighed as she crashed on the couch. He was referring to the fact she needed to stay awake in case she did have a concussion but his choice of words had been even more unfortunate than hers. And the day had promised so much! On the plus side, he hadn't noticed the awkwardness. She could probably have done the dance of the seven veils and he would have been trying to stick a thermometer under her tongue. Musing on Clark's cluelessness helped her to calm down, so by the time he'd come back downstairs she was feeling herself again. She was just having a Smallville flashback due to extreme stress, like an acid trip but with sweatier palms. Besides, just because she no longer wanted to be with Clark didn't mean she had completely forgotten he was an attractive guy. She sometimes found herself still responding to him but it meant nothing. She'd wanted a cigarette in the car after all. You could still have cravings for the things that were bad for you.

He helped her to the bathroom where she sat in hot water and tried to forget Jim Weathers, Tom Jordan, ghosts, guns, Chloe, Maurie, Superman and Smallville. But trying to relax wasn't a great idea either. When she began to slip down into the water, she jerked herself awake and got out hurriedly. She was starting to feel very, very tired and she still had to wait out a whole night of Clark's head injury house arrest. She gingerly felt the butterfly stitches holding the cut on the back of her head closed. It could have been worse though. A lot worse. Unbidden, a memory of the two corpses swum to the fore of her mind. At least her brain was all in one piece. Despite ample evidence to the contrary. What had she been thinking getting hot and bothered by Clark downstairs? Clark's supportive nature might falter if she launched herself at him. Especially since she hadn't corrected his assumption she was dating someone else. What would have helped was if he was seeing someone at the moment. Nothing was a quicker splash of cold water on Kent urges than the thought of him rolling in the hay with some hottie and the friendly intimacy they shared was always dialed back a notch when the other was in a relationship.

She dried herself with one of Clark's fluffy red towels and dressed in the clothes he had laid out for her. She'd been surprised by his outburst about Superman. If anything she'd expect him to get intense about the main drama of the evening. Well, Smallville had his own peculiar thought processes, she'd known that a long time. As she returned downstairs, she found him cooking up pancakes and went to join him in the kitchen. For a while they talked about inconsequential things and Lois found the aches in her body dimming. He even managed to make her laugh with some lame jokes. It didn't matter that she knew he was trying to distract her from reality, the effect was the same. Once he had served up, they sat opposite each other at the table and began to pile in. Between mouthfuls she studied him thoughtfully as he talked about his mom's upcoming state-sponsored trip to China.

When Weathers was pulling his bad cop, worse cop routine, she'd been thinking about him. Somehow the idea of him steadied her. He was a landmark she could orientate herself by. If she could look around him and see him, she knew she was alright. And when he wasn't around, if she was deliberating over whether to replace the toner, she would imagine what Clark would do. Then she'd ignore his voice and ignore the toner as well. Or if Cat Grant was raving about a glamorous party she was heading off to after hearing Lois had been covering an accident in the sewers, she would try and summon some Smallville stoicism. Nine times out of ten, it failed and she ended up throwing a stinking jacket in her direction, but just sometimes summoning the Kent spirit worked. Sometimes he made her a better person.

"What? You're looking at me funny. Have I got syrup on my chin?" He tried to lick a non-existent spot of goo off his face and she bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling. Once he'd reassured himself he wasn't smeared in sugary mess he looked at her expectantly. "What's the joke then?"

"Why are you single Clark?"

He frowned, "I thought you had a long list of exactly why I'm not suitable dating material. It's up to ten pages now isn't it?"

"I'm having it bound. But you're a good guy. I should fix you up with someone." Clark shook his head sharply, a horrified look on his face.

"No way Lois! Absolutely not! I am not interested in meeting anyone new. I mean it." She shrugged her shoulders and moved a pancake from his plate to hers. "Promise me?"

"I swear I won't try and fix you up with anyone new," she said solemnly, one hand on her heart and the other held aloft.

"Good," he sighed, stealing his food back from her. "Just so we're clear."

"Crystal," she nodded. After all, there was nothing new about his ex-girlfriend Terry.


	13. Chapter 13

"More popcorn?" Oliver waved the empty bowl at her and she shook her head. He frowned. "You hardly touched the pizza, something wrong?" He kept his voice low to avoid waking Chloe. The blonde was curled up on the opposite sofa, a throw pulled over her by Clark before he left to pick up a birthday card for his mother. Where he thought he was going to find one at this time of night was a mystery.

Lois was distracted by a blare of sound from the television. Usually the sight of Carrie unleashing promacide was enough to keep her attention but tonight her mind was wandering too much. The last week had drained her of all her energy and she should be curled up in a ball like her cousin. But the idea of sleeping didn't appeal that much. Her dreams seemed to be heavy with frustrating scenes that left a sour taste in her mouth when she woke. Everything felt on hold. She hadn't seen Superman since she had argued with him. Thankfully there had been no more Superman murders and the press still hadn't got hold of the Kryptonian message angle. She was still wading through leads that petered to nothing.

Things were so stalled that she was considering persuading Smallville to identify Summers' body, so she could go and talk to his mother about his release from Belle Reeve. The idea of interviewing her when she potentially didn't know her son was dead seemed too much. But Clark was trying to delay taking this inevitable step, torn between truth for Summers' family and the fear that it would bring more heat down on her. For the time being the Smallville cops were running with the theory that Jordan owed Weathers money, so the uncomfortable questions had died down for the time being. But the information she'd taken from Tom's office and hidden in her purse was not the all-illuminating material she'd hoped for. There were names on the paperwork but they were badly written. She needed something weightier than scrawled names to get Belle Reeve talking. Something like what she'd had, a living source who knew about the conspiracy.

So instead she'd spent two days in Star City trying to track down Raul until finally a cousin of his had made it abundantly clear that if she carried on looking, Raul would move even further out of her reach. The family would _consider_ her pleas for an interview. She knew a 'not in this lifetime' when she heard one. Stuck on the freeway back to Metropolis, she'd finally returned the calls from Maurie's lawyer, only to hear that the journalist had left her the task of sorting through a lock-up on the east side of town. Lois knew what she'd find, all of his old notes. Since tomorrow was her day off, she had the prospect of looking through several decades of Maurie's scrappy notebooks, as well as reams of carbons and receipts. She'd suspected his apartment hadn't been big enough for his archive.

It would be a long, laborious process of wallowing in the devastating minutia of one man's existence.

She could hardly wait.

To top that all off, she hadn't yet worked up the courage to ask Chloe about their old conversation on ghosts. When she'd mentioned Weathers' and Jordan's delusions, she'd flinched. Lois had gently asked her if she had been having any strange dreams when she was in Smallville, about the dead, she'd said sharply,

"I don't dream."

That had depressed her more than anything else in the long week since Maurie's funeral.

"You worried about her?" Oliver prompted, catching her concerned look. Lois nodded sadly and gestured for him to follow her out onto her terrace. She pulled the door to behind them and took a seat. It wasn't warm outside tonight but she seemed to feel the cold more than usual, wrapping her arms around her knees. Oliver sat on the edge of the wall opposite her and waited for her to talk.

"Do you ever wonder if…if Chloe's really okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what happened with Jimmy. It's like this wall came down and now there's the Chloe we have now and the Chloe she was back then. And they don't meet." Lois ran a hand through her hand and sighed. "She changed Ollie. I wanted so badly to believe I could help her get back to before but I was being naïve. I can't fix her."

"You can't fix another person."

"Damnit, I should be able to! She's my baby cousin!"

"She's not a baby anymore," Oliver shook his head.

"Part of me knows that. But it's hard the let go of the picture of that little kid she always is in the back of my mind. I remember, she was always going 'why, why, why?' and stamping her feet if you didn't answer her questions. I used to tell her the craziest things just to get her to shut up but she always caught on. She thought lying was so wrong. God, look at us all, when did we all get so old?"

"Lois, you're not even thirty, aren't you being a little over the top?"

"I feel old okay? I feel ancient."

"You've had a bad week. A bad year," he amended. "Things will get better."

"They don't seem to. They just seem to get harder." Oliver moved to crouch beside her.

"Hey. This isn't the Lane fighting spirit. You'll get through this." She reached out and touched his cheek.

"You got older too Queen. When did that happen?"

"The first time I fell off the wagon? Maybe the second." She snorted. Her old boyfriend had had some rough times over the years but though his eyes look tired he was also wiser. More patient. He was not just the brash young man who had swept her off her feet all those years ago. He was something greater. But some of his careless energy that had first grabbed her attention had gone.

"I think the one who's changed the least is Clark. And then some days I look around and I wonder if I recognise him."

"Or if you ever knew him as well as you think," Oliver said. She frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Forget it, just…I don't want to get in the middle of the two of you. I won't make this mistake again."

"No, tell me what you mean. I know Clark better than anyone, so why say that?" Oliver folded his arms over his chest and didn't meet her eyes. "Queen, talk, or I get crazy on you." He glanced over at her, his expression uneasy.

"Fine. If you know him so well, where is he right now?"

"Buying his mom a birthday card."

"At one in the morning?"

"Yeah, well, I didn't say it was a well-conceived plan. Clark has all kinds of crazy ideas."

"When did he learn how to speak Mandarin?"

"You mean when he ordered that food at Golden Pagoda the other month? Ollie, he was just showing off by memorising the names of, like, three dishes. It's not exactly hard, he always gets the shredded chilli beef. He's like an old lady."

"He said more than a few words."

"Then what are you trying to say?" Lois felt hurt by Oliver's comments. She felt so in the dark already and Clark was the one thing she was trying to hold on to. He had been there when she needed him so much over the last few weeks, no, ever since Maurie got sick, and here was Ollie coming up with all this bull, messing with her head even more? She needed to believe in Clark Kent more than ever. She wasn't about to relinquish that easily. She was just about to launch into a serious dressing down of the businessman when the door to the terrace slid open and Chloe peeked her head out.

"Hey guys, what are you doing out here?"

"We're just talking. Didn't want to wake you cuz," she said as blithely as she could. Chloe didn't seem rested by her nap, if anything she looked more drained than ever.

"Where's Clark?"

"He went out. To buy a greeting card for his mom," Lois said, the words sounding incredibly weak to her ears now. But no, if Smallville said that's what he was doing, then what's he was doing. She would have been satisfied with that rationalisation if she hadn't seen the look on Chloe's face as she nodded.

"Oh right, a card." She went back inside and Lois glanced at Oliver. He caught her eye for a moment and she recognised the expression. He felt guilty.

They both thought Clark was lying. And they both thought they knew what he was really doing. She turned away from Oliver as he walked past her. Her eyes stung briefly. She wouldn't believe it. Clark was Clark. She didn't care if they thought she was buying a line, he was her friend. He was her Smallville; a fixed point on the map.

She just didn't know where he was at right now, that was all.

-----------------

Once the manager had shown her to right container, she stood outside for a few minutes, trying to psyche herself up. The task ahead of her was no easier now than it had sounded when she'd first heard from the lawyer. But it was important that she do this right because it was the last thing she would ever do for Maurie.

With that thought in mind, she unlocked the padlock and slid open the door. Her heart sunk as soon as she saw the contents of the storage space. It went back ten feet and there were cardboard boxes stacked above her head. There was a little space in the front where Maurie had arranged a trestle table, a lamp and a folding chair. Otherwise the room was boxes, boxes, boxes.

She flipped open the chair and sat down next to his make-shift desk. This was going to take a very long time. She looked to her right and saw a small box near eye-level.

"Got to start somewhere," she sighed and pulled it off its pile and onto the table. There was only a thin layer of dust over it, over his furniture too. He had been in here relatively recently, hopefully creating an exhaustive catalogue and index of his archive. Where that hypothetical list might be, she had no idea. She wasn't too convinced that Maurie had been that organised. Remembering the state of his desk at work, she suspected she was guilty of some very wishful thinking.

She pulled a sheaf of handwritten notes out of the box and scanned the first page. It seemed to be a rough write-up of an interview, one that was dated from around a year ago. The initial M, stood for Maurie she presumed. And the other side of the conversation was listed as SP.

M: I just want your impressions of him, like we talked about on the phone.

SP: I don't see what good it'll do you.

M: Don't worry about that, just give me a picture of what he's like.

SP: Well, he was a well-behaved kid, you know. Didn't join in with the other kids when he was little, he never joined Little League, not like my Sammy. But then, that makes sense, his parents being protective and all. They weren't blessed with their own, you know, troubles in that department. So we guessed they were extra careful of him.

Lois scanned the rest of the page, seeing nothing of interest. She picked another file from the box and began to flick through the pages. It looked like another interview, dated only a few days before the other one. This one was between Maurie and someone called JK.

JK: I don't get it. What do you mean?

M: Did he get there before, or after the fire department arrived?

JK: Before, but…

M: But I have another witness who can place him at the coffee shop five minutes before. How did he reach you at the house before the firemen? How did you know you were in trouble?

JK: I don't know. He was just…always…I don't know.

M: Always there?

JK: Right.

Lois frowned. Were all these interviews about the same person? Obviously he'd been doing background research on someone but the fact the notes hadn't been typed up was strange. Perhaps those notes were in another box. She examined the sides to see if she could find out a description of the contents. Instead it was dated with a two-week period around the time of the interviews. It wasn't a particularly useful way of filing the notes, how would he have been able to work out what the notes were about after a few years? There was another number on the box, seventy-five.

She got up and pulled another box off the top of a pile further along. An official looking document near the front caught her eye and she pulled it out. It was a document about an adoption arranged by Metropolis United Charities.

Lois looked at the side of the box. It was dated six weeks before the first one she had opened and carried the number seventy-four. She turned round some more and found the same dating system. Forcing her way between two close stacks, she saw every box was labelled with the same date system. She pulled out some folders at random. There were school transcripts. Hands shaking, she yanked out another, not caring that the boxes were starting to topple over. This one contained a job application to the Daily Planet. Stories, all written by the same person.

A pile near the wall slid apart and her attention was grabbed by something white. There was a piece of paper taped half-way up the wall. She got to her feet and moved more boxes out of the way. It was covered in writing but it wasn't just one piece of paper. She tried to edge more boxes away from the wall without collapsing them. The light was dim so far away from the door and with so much in the way so she hurried back to pick up the lamp. Turning it on she returned to the patch of wall she had exposed. It was a timeline. She followed it round, nudging boxes out of the way so she could track its progress.

It started at 1989. Then things were quiet for a while until 2001 when a flurry of events were noted. There were references to the box numbers she had seen. Fifty-two seemed to refer to a few days in 2004. There were two boxes allocated to the time of the second meteor shower when she had been in the dam. But the line stopped a year ago. The highest box number she could find was eighty, the last piece of work he must have carried out for the investigation.

She walked back towards the front of the container, looking for the final chapter. She found it by the wall, a small box that had held paper for the copy machine at work. There was very little in it. An envelope with her name on it. Some chunks of meteor rock, some stories on Superman she'd written. She opened up the envelope and saw it contained another hand-written interview, between M and LL.

M: What did you see in that kid anyway?

LL: I'm so not drunk enough to talk about that Maurie. Okay, another tequila. Now I'm drunk enough.

M: Well?

LL: You said you liked him back then? Didn't you like him? I liked him.

M: I find it hard to make him out.

LL: There's no big secret, what you see is what you get. One big farm-boy with big honest eyes and big honest hands. But you don't want to hear about his hands.

M: But he tells lies hun. Where did he go off to tonight? He said he'd forgotten to file a story. Do you believe him?

LL: Of course I do!

M: Why? You're a smart kid, why do you let it slide?

LL: Because I have to. Because I have to believe in him. Because it's part of the deal.

M: What deal?

LL: Of loving Clark Kent. Or liking. Or whatever. Come on Maurie, where's my next shot? You're not cutting me off are you? Hey! If I'm doing the talking, you're doing the buying. What kind of a reporter are you anyway?

She hadn't remembered this conversation but she remembered going out with Maurie and others to celebrate the success of her and Clark's series on the airport sabotage scandal. She remembered the hangover the next day. He'd plied her with drinks so he could prise some kind of information out of her, she knew the tactic, after all she'd used it herself. Whatever he had learnt from this conversation seemed to drawn things to a close.

"What kind of reporter were you?" She asked the empty room bleakly. "What have you done Maurie?"

There was still another piece of paper in the envelope but she didn't want to read it. She didn't want to know if there was a justification for this in it, she couldn't bear to read it if there was one. How could this be his legacy to her, a reality where she was a source and Clark Kent was the story?

She crumpled the transcript in her hand and dropped it. She felt nauseous.

This metal box held her best friend's life story, pieced together by the finest investigate reporter she had ever known. A narrative that had absorbed hours and hours of his time, digging up people to talk to, rooting through records. Whatever was contained here had fascinated him. Here could be the answer to every question she'd ever had, every doubt she'd never dared voice, all the stories she'd never second-guessed.

And she didn't want anything to do with it.


	14. Chapter 14

Lois was supposed to be focusing on the present and the parade of dresses in front of her but her thoughts were ten miles to the East, in a storage container. Every time Chloe went back into the cubicle to change into a new outfit, she sank back into the chaise lounge and her mind snapped back to Maurie's investigation. It felt like she was struggling against an elastic cord that tied her to that room, and if she lost her footing in the here and now, she was pulled back into the doubt and fear it represented.

She couldn't remember the last time she had had so many questions she couldn't afford to answer. Superman and his mysteries were like a muffled buzzing compared to this deafening barrage. Clark had wanted to spend the afternoon looking into the Superman cult she'd been collecting information on but she couldn't handle another minute in his company. Looking at his face, the face she relied on more than any other, was becoming unbearable. She couldn't bear betray him as Maurie had betrayed her trust but part of her whispered that Clark had done it first.

He was a liar.

He was lying to her.

He was the biggest liar she knew. He was her biggest story.

"So what do you think? Is it too….green?" Chloe frowned and looked down at herself. Lois lifted her eyes from the carpet to survey her cousin's choice. It was pretty fabulous, with a price-tag to match no doubt. Chloe had dragged her through some of the most expensive boutiques in Metropolis. Lois wasn't entirely sure why she was making so much effort for one of Oliver's charity dinners. But she had her suspicions.

"Too green? Isn't green the point Chlo?"

"What do you mean?" Chloe said, trying to crane her neck round so she could see the back of the outfit.

"Let's see, the last dress was jade, and then before that it was emerald, and before that it was sea-foam. It's not a St. Patrick's Day party." Lois stretched out her back and yawned. "But it is an Oliver Queen party."

"So?"

"Remember the question about a certain Victoria's Secret item?" She asked with an arched brow. Chloe shrugged innocently.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Oh please. Why are you trying to mess with his head anyway? This one could get you arrested." Chloe made a face and looked at the hemline.

"Is it too much?"

"This is me you're talking to, getting arrested is a sign you're on to a winner. Seriously, what is this about?"

"Just giving him a little reminder I'm more than a techie," she smiled slightly as she turned in front of the mirror. She caught Lois' expression and asked, "What, I'm not allowed to have a little fun now and again? I can't stand another night in front of a computer screen."

"Yeah, well, just don't stick your reminders too far into his personal space or you'll be messing with your professional relationship. Trust an expert, office romances suck, the fall-out is a nightmare." Chloe went behind the curtain and began to change.

"You and Clark managed to make it work."

"Are you kidding? Do you not remember how awful those first few months were after we broke up? I spent so much time flying around the country I starting hanging out with the pilots in the airport lounge. And those guys hit it hard." Lois winced at the memories, though thankfully most of them were hazy around the edges due to a combination of exhaustion from over-work, crying jags and booze. Lots of booze. Breaking up with Clark, as hard as that had been, had been a stroll in the park compared with living with the decision.

"Yeah, remember that time when you made me throw your phone out the window because you wanted to call him?"

"Huh?"

"You were a bit of a mess. You said unless I threw it out the window, you were going to wrestle me to the floor and make me give it back to you." Lois smiled disbelievingly but Chloe sounded serious. "You meant it."

"I really said that? What did you do?" She pulled her cell phone out of her bag and looked at it. "Wait, is that why I had to buy this new one?"

"No, that was because you dropped it out of the cab the time Oliver tried to stop you going all the way out to Smallville. You got some red one to replace the one I threw out the window."

"Oh yeah. Those were expensive months." Had she really tried to erase so much of that time from her memories? No wonder she didn't like to dwell on that period more than necessary. "I wanted to go all the way to Smallville? Why?"

Chloe stepped out from behind the curtain, her own clothes back on again. She had a concerned look on her face. She'd worn that look a lot when she'd broken up with Clark. "Because you wanted to get back together with him," she said gently.

"Oh."

She'd definitely edited that out. True she'd had a lot of regrets in those first few months but she hadn't realised she had come so close to undoing her decision. She'd thought it had been more clean-cut than that. Perhaps she'd just wanted to believe she'd never tried to go back on it.

"Sorry. Sounds like I was a mess."

"Don't apologise to me but maybe ask Ollie to forgive you for that black eye you gave him," Chloe smiled a little.

"Oh my god, that was me? He said some crazy ex gave it to him!" She said with mortification.

"He thought it was probably better you didn't remember at the time." Lois groaned and covered her face. "Hey, don't worry about it. You didn't see what Clark was like." Lois groaned even louder. Seeing Clark after their break-up hadn't only been difficult because she ached from the lost closeness between them but because she could see he was suffering. And she had been the cause.

The guilt had been crushing and only flying in Superman's arms had seemed to lift her spirits. Perhaps that had been the time she'd really started to fall for him, when she had lost the man she had pinned all her hopes on. The idea didn't make her feel any better about herself. Maybe she would have realised she was in love with Superman a lot sooner if her feelings for him hadn't emerged out of the ashes of her relationship with Clark.

"Sorry Lo, that probably wasn't the best thing to say," Chloe said regretfully. "He never blamed you for what happened you know. When that gang kept you in the vault…you must have been terrified." Lois shrugged.

"It wasn't so bad. I spent most of the time thinking up new curse words to use on Clark. It didn't really sink in until they checked me over at the hospital. I wouldn't let them throw away my dress. I'd wanted him to see me in it so badly. My nails, my hair, my make-up…all ruined. And I realised I'd been expecting it. I'd never really thought we'd go to dinner that night, or that he'd turn up to stop me being grabbed by those guys. I'd stopped hoping somewhere." She'd had all these dreams, all these expectations tied up with Clark, and coming to see they wouldn't be realised as she wanted had been devastating. Perhaps it would have been easier to live with the decision in the following months if she hadn't acted so quickly. But if she hadn't, would she have had anything left of her friendship with him to rescue from the rubble? She had to act then and there, that night. Before she'd become accustomed to the pain he'd caused her, found some way to accommodate it just so she could stay in love with her best friend. He wouldn't have walked away from their relationship, no matter what downward spiral it could have taken. It had to be her. She had made the right call in the hospital.

"You never said this back then."

"You're his oldest friend Chlo. Some things…I couldn't say. I didn't want to go too far." Chloe shook her head and took hold of Lois' hand.

"You're family. You can tell me anything. I love you both but I'm not blind to Clark's faults." But maybe she was blind to some. The kind of faults you could catalogue in a storage container. She couldn't believe Chloe knew about what was in that room. It was far too big.

But hadn't she and Ollie had that look the other night, the one that said they knew where Clark had really run to? What if they both knew the secrets Maurie had uncovered? What if she was the last to know, kept in the dark because she couldn't be trusted?

But if Chloe knew, she would tell her. She couldn't get totally paranoid and believe everyone around her was in on some big secret. It was just that every since she'd arrived in Smallville she'd known there were things between the classmates that she had never been invited to share. Partly she'd believed these were other people's secrets, so it was okay if they kept her out of the loop. But if the biggest secret belonged to Clark, why had they had never let her in? But, but, but; she was going round in circles.

"Yeah, well, you guys weren't as close as you had been back then. I didn't want to say too much. He needed you too."

Now that room was making her doubt her own blood. She couldn't somehow hold Clark responsible for that, the mantle didn't seem to fit on his shoulders. It was some other Clark who lied to her. It couldn't be the man she had been in love with.

"Clark and I can take care of our own relationship," Chloe admonished gently. "You needed to look out for yourself."

And if she was only thinking of herself, would that mean she read those files, or would it mean she locked them away and never went back? Would it truly be better not to know?

"Just because I broke up with him didn't mean I stopped loving him." Chloe scrutinised her face carefully.

"And now?" Lois laughed, trying to replicate the kind of sound she might have made a week, two weeks ago. A laugh that said: all that craziness is in the past, we're nothing but great pals. Tight as brothers.

In her heart, she felt the same way she always had. He was Smallville, he was a fixed point in the universe. But the babble of questions wouldn't die away and she knew it would chip away at her. Blind faith wasn't an option anymore.

"Please, the two of us are like Bert and Ernie. Sure, there could be chemistry there but a sane universe says no."

"Bert and Ernie have chemistry?" Chloe frowned.

"Definitely, it's all in the eyes. But it was just one of those things you know, we got it out of our system, and now we're just like we always should have stayed. A team. Partners. Like Cagney and Lacey."

"Uh…"

"Or Lassie and the kid." Chloe grinned.

"And which one of you is the dog?"

"Please, I'm Lassie, she was the one with the brains."

"Right."

"My point is, we've both moved on. I'm dating, uh," had she really forgotten his name already? "Jake! And Smallville's going to get tired of feeding Shelby being the closest he gets to a dinner date with a hot blonde eventually." She pulled her phone out again as she heard it buzz. Terry had emailed her back. They were on for dinner tomorrow night. Clark would just have to cancel whatever he had on. He was going to be there. This fun chat with Chloe hadn't exactly soothed her nerves, and the fewer issues she had to deal with around him, the better. If he was dating someone, it simplified a lot of things. Maybe if there was some distance between them again she could get her head straight and work out what to do with that room.

"And that's it? You never wonder if maybe…"

Lois shook her head and smiled brightly.

"Forget it Chlo, it's not happening. After all, I know the guy too well now, there's no mystery there anymore."


	15. Chapter 15

It was box number 12 and it was sitting right in front of Clark. His head was bent over his notepad, scribbling his thoughts down as their visitor went to the bathroom. Clark hadn't asked her yet what was in the box but the thing seemed to grow larger and more ominous every time her eyes were pulled back to it. It might as well have been a heart under the floorboards considering how badly she was managing ignoring it.

He's not going to know, he can't see through the box. And if he asks, just bluff, she told herself.

Sure, bluff, the guy in that story probably never thought of that. Inspired!

If their guest hadn't proved to be the kind of source they needed on the Superman murders, Clark would definitely have noticed how distracted she was. All he needed to do was let his attention wander from the interview for one moment and then…

"He seems on the level, don't you think?"

"Huh? Yeah. No, he does."

"Doesn't hurt that he's besotted with you," he smiled wryly. She shrugged. The college student had spent most of the time answering the questions Clark had asked as if she had posed them. She'd had some of this before. It was the Superman effect. She was a hero to some simply because she seemed to have a connection to the being they idolised. She knew he was holding back on asking about her time with Superman because he didn't want to see like a fanatic but before he left, he would ask.

And she'd trot out the same lines. What she wouldn't tell him was that Superman was jerking her around like a fish hooked on the end of a line. She wasn't about to tell him how many lonely nights she had spent fantasising that this time, _this time_, he was going to fly to her door and tell her she was the embodiment of all his dreams and hopes, and how about they get down to it, you know, if she was amenable.

There was also no way she was going to tell him that although Superman appeared to be a veritable god made flesh, she was in fact being tied into knots right now by a man who could spend twenty minutes looking for his glasses before she realised he was wearing them pushed up on his head. Or who had taken her to his prom. Or who had taken a bullet for her.

A bullet. Did he know what he was doing to her?

"Yeah, well, who can blame him?" She sighed.

"Anything wrong?" He asked gently.

"We're not handling this right. We can't keep that poor woman in the dark anymore. The cops still haven't worked out who Eric Summers is, so we're going to have to set them straight."

"I know," he frowned. "I don't feel good about it. I was hoping if we just bought some more time…" his hands fell helplessly onto the desk. "But we haven't managed to prise anything more out of Belle Reeve. Short of door-stepping the senior staff, again, we're out of ways to get them to talk to us." They were refusing to give her or Clark interviews, everyone from the janitorial staff up to the clinical director. The building was keeping its secrets sealed up tight. "Whoever got Weathers to kill Jordan is content to wait us out." He looked at her, his expression still uneasy. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"You're about twenty years too late Clark," she rolled her eyes. "How many times, you're not Superman, you don't have to take the burden of the world on your shoulders."

"Just looking out for you. And that's not a burden." He said these kinds of things so directly, so calmly, as if they were all self-evident. But these occasional flashes of disarming honesty were all the more painful when held up against all his lies. He could tell her what he felt but he couldn't tell her where he went. All these years she had told herself, what you see, is what you get.

She'd sworn he would never get to break her heart again, and here he was, trying to do it all over again. Always with the same frank, open look on his face.

"Sorry. Lost my way." The kid was back, an awkward smile on his face as he sat back in his chair, pulled up next to their desks. His eyes were shining with excitement, jumping around the newsroom and the other reporters and then back to her. She imagined he'd looked pretty similar when he first joined the Superman cult, the New Son Fellowship.

Chase Devonshire was a normal, excitable 21-year-old. Like a lot of people, he thought Superman was pretty special. But unlike a lot of people, he had actually seen him in the flesh, the day he first appeared in Metropolis. It had been a short glimpse of the Man of Steel but he had been obsessed with him from that day to this. So when he met a cute girl at Met U who seemed to share his interest, he'd thought she was the girl of his dreams.

She'd introduced him to some like-minded people around the campus and then pretty soon they'd heard about a talk being held nearby, all about how Superman could be a part of your life every day.

That way meant being part of the Fellowship and following the words of Frank Charter. Three months later he had dropped out of school, ignoring his parents calls, and living in a building Frank apparently owned in Suicide Slums with his other new best friends.

"It wasn't so crazy at first you know. I mean, sometimes the others would say stuff, and I'd think, hey, isn't that a little weird? But I'd look round at Suzanne and she'd be nodding away like it was normal. So I thought, hey, maybe I need to re-think what I know. Maybe I'm not as smart as I thought. That's why I went to college in the first place right? To learn new things. Open my mind. Not that far though."

"What is Frank Charter like?"

"He doesn't look so impressive, at first. First time I saw him, before he went on stage at the talk, I thought he looked like a bit of a bum, you know? He's not that tall, shorter than me. And he's got this thick brown hair which sticks out everywhere, this big beard as well. He always seems to wear Hawaiian shirts, shorts. But then he got on the stage and he started to talk and it was like, he was this whole other person. He has this way of looking at you, like you're the only person in the room." Chase blushed. "It sounds silly but that has a real effect on you."

"No, I get it exactly," Lois nodded. Didn't Superman do something similar to her sometimes? She knew it was light years away from the manipulative S.O.B. who had messed with this kid's head but the comparison didn't make her feel very comfortable. "It can be pretty intense."

"Right. Well, he had that. He would talk about all these philosophers, religions, and he talked about this idea of the sun and a messiah coming to redeem us being in all cultures. Everywhere, from like cavemen to the Egyptians." He ducked his head. "I was pretty dumb. I was never into Sunday School or Church or any of it back home but somehow it all seemed to make sense when he said it. Like it was obvious. Of course Superman was a god. And then it was obvious he was the God." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"It's okay Chase, go on," Clark said mildly, though from the tight look on his face, Lois knew he was deeply upset by what the young man was saying. Only someone who knew him well would be able to pick up on that. Though not so well that she didn't need to see the inside of box 12.

"At first I didn't really get what was going on. I knew there was a difference between some of the people there. But I was so new, I didn't know as many people as Suzanne, she wasn't as shy as me. She was totally into it, even more than me. Our other friends had dropped out of the commune pretty quick but she had all this faith in Frank. She'd get this look in her eyes when he spoke like he was…maybe I would have caught on earlier if I'd been paying more attention but I was just so excited. I was crazy about her and I felt like here, I was with these people who finally got me. They got why Superman was the biggest thing to happen to the world, ever!"

Lois nodded. She understood only too well how Chase felt, and it was a matter of record that she had the same Super-fever. That was why her name had proven to be the key in getting him to talk. Lois Lane was the official cheerleader all right.

"So how did you find out about the second level?"

"It was just little things, like people would whisper about it or they'd refer to it kind of indirectly. I asked one of the older guys one day and he said yeah, there was a special group. Flo, Callie, Samuel, Inga, they were all second level, with Frank."

"Mostly women," Clark said. Chase grimaced.

"Right. That didn't seem like a big deal at first but later it made sense. Anyway, we all knew Frank was with Inga. They'd been pratically married for like ten years or something everyone said. They had a few rooms at the top of the house. Everyone else just bunked down together in the East room most nights but they had their own little suite. Anyway, she'd always stuck with him through everything. Even prison."

"He'd done time?"

"Sure, that was a big thing for him. He was proof that Superman could turn anyone's life round. He loved us all. We were all precious in his eyes. And if the Son could rescue a guy like him, what could he do for the best and the brightest? He meant us when he said that but he didn't mean it. He thought he was smarter than all of us. He probably was."

"Do you know what he was inside for?"

"It was writing bad cheques I think, something like that. He always joked about what a con-artist he'd been and did this little act where he put on this smarmy voice and pretended to con us out of our loose change. We'd all laugh and fall around! He could be really funny you know? And we'd all smile and play along, give him our quarters." Chase smiled flatly. "He always kept the money. We never really noticed he didn't give it back."

Charter's aim didn't appear to be conning his recruits out of all their money though. They weren't encouraged to sell all their worldly possessions or re-mortgage their homes. They were asked to make donations of course, to keep the commune running but their leader seemed to have financial resources of his own to fall back on. He appeared to own the building they lived in, as well as several others they occasionally used in the area. Inga also mentioned an apartment in an all-together fancier part of Metropolis that they'd lived in before moving full-time into the commune a year ago.

Instead he seemed to have other aims. Like cutting them off from their old lives. Asking them to abide by his rules so they could bring the one, true Son into their lives. Sometimes, this was harmless, like everyone turning in before nine each night. But it could be more dangerous. After he claimed he spent an hour at dawn staring into the sun each day, the great source of Superman's power, one of the younger men, Trent, had damaged his eyes trying to copy his leader. An innocent mistake of course, Frank said, Trent hadn't been ready yet, you had to build up to it. Of course staring into the sun at all was a very bad idea and Chase realised that Frank could only be lying about watching the sunset for so long each day. But he supposed the message was the most important thing. Frank had to have been speaking metaphorically. Trent had just been stupid.

But he didn't always speak figuratively. When he said Superman had rescued him, he meant it literally.

Nearly two years ago he had been driving drunk at night and crashed into a ditch by the road. There was no one for miles, and no one could hear his cries for hopes as he slowly bled to death. Superman had found him and flown him to the hospital. Frank would show his scars criss-crossing his torso and legs. Truly, he had been blessed.

The others were blessed too because they had found each other and together they could try and live better, brighter lives. And it was true that Chase found himself thinking more and more about his own selfish behaviours. Hadn't he always lived for himself? How could he have sat back all the years and simply watched the suffering and misery around him, without being moved to do something? In the commune they would spend days on the streets, talking to the homeless, handing out sandwiches they made each morning. Or they would stand on street corners and hand out leaflets they printed themselves, proclaiming the Son was here and he would save their souls.

Even living each day with the light of Superman in their hearts was a good deed. Simply living purely and with good intentions was a step in the right direction.

So if Suzanne spent more and more time with Frank in his rooms, beyond the nine o'clock curfew, well, she was just trying to find answers, like all of them. And Frank saw a lot of potential in her.

"When did you work it out?" Lois asked gently.

"That he was sleeping with all of the girls?" Chased asked bitterly. "Not til much later. I don't know why it wasn't obvious. Suzanne was pulling away from me more and more every day but I was so into what we were doing there I didn't think about it too much. We would be meditating for hours or out on the streets all day, some days I didn't see her at all. But I should have known. She started talking about the second level. That annoyed me. She wouldn't tell me exactly what it required, this level. I knew there was some kind of ritual you performed, some act of dedication that showed how committed you were but no one would spell it out exactly. They all just raved about how it transformed the people who did it. Inga and Samuel and the others, they were all saved, truly saved, and the look on their faces…I wanted to be there too, you know. We all wanted it badly. But it was Frank who decided when we were ready."

"And he'd decided Suzanne was?" Clark asked gently. She had an idea where this was heading but her mouth still felt dry as Chase nodded.

Smallville had sketched out the story to her earlier over the phone, right after he'd managed to get in touch with Chase. He'd been one of the super-fans on the big message boards Clark had spoken to about what a true Superman fan was. When the student had mentioned a group he'd belonged to once, Clark had managed to draw more details out of him and get him to come to the office. Lois' name had closed the deal.

Hearing him retell the story of how he had learned the truth behind the cult was difficult. Superman was supposed to stand for something noble and pure and yet he was being corrupted for the ends of a sick man like Charter. Damaging lives like the naïve but well-meaning Chase and his vulnerable girlfriend.

"But they argued or something and then Suzanne was back with me every night, crying when she thought we were all asleep. No one dared ask. I didn't dare ask. We didn't want to be in Frank's bad books too. Every day he was giving these sermons about non-believers and he didn't say it outright but we knew it was all about Suzanne. I saw Inga slap her one morning, in the kitchen. She didn't even say anything back, it was like the Suzanne she had been was all gone. Her energy had all gone. And I was annoyed with her because she was ruining this perfect set-up. Everything had been fine and now it had all gone sour." Chase's mouth seemed to crumple and he covered his face with his hands. After a few moments he seemed to collect himself and continued. "After two weeks of this, she stopped coming out with us every day. She would just lie on her roll. But I came back earlier than others one afternoon because I wanted to read a copy of this piece in the Planet about Superman." He looked at Lois and smiled thinly. "You wrote it about him putting that fire out at that school? I really loved that story."

"It was a good piece," Clark nodded.

"If it hadn't been for that, I might not have found her at all." Chase broke down again and this time he sobbed. Lois knew what he had found when he returned. Suzanne had tried to take her own life in the bathroom. She survived but the hospital kept her in overnight.

When he returned from her side that night to talk to the others his head had been all over the place. What she had told him couldn't possibly be true. But every angry word she had flung at him had seemed to peel back another strip of his ignorance. Until the raw truth was exposed.

He had confronted Frank, Inga and some of the others and thrown the facts at them.

"They didn't even deny it. It was true. To get into the second level you had to have Superman save you from death. He had to save you. And the best way to get him to do that was to fling yourself off a building downtown."

A suicide cult. Except the point wasn't to die, it was to be rescued. The idea wasn't totally unfamiliar to Lois. There were some mentally disturbed people who had decided the best way to get into Superman's life was to risk their own. Some died in the attempt. But for the idea to be formalised in this way turned her stomach.

"Everyone on the second level had done it. I asked them who failed. Who hadn't made it? He can't be everywhere, watching all of us, all the time! That's when I knew how stupid I had been! He's not all-seeing, he can't save us all! And he hadn't. A girl called Tina had died last year, before we arrived. No one talked about her anymore. She wasn't supposed to be saved. She wasn't chosen. She wasn't worthy."

Lois glanced over at Clark and saw a terrible look on his face. He was devastated. Aged, as if Chase's words had drawn the flesh away from his bones. His mouth was pressed into a tight line and his right hand was curled into a fist on the desk.

He was angry as well, she realised. Furious in a way she hadn't seen before. Except the night Alicia died, when he had seemed prepared to choke the life out of her killer. But though Clark was often upset and angered by some of the stories they wrote about, she hadn't ever see him react like this about work.

Thankfully Chase hadn't noticed as he was staring down at the floor woefully.

"I still think about that girl. What she must have felt as she fell, realising he wasn't coming, knowing she wasn't good enough to be saved." Clark seemed to flinch as Chase said this so she got out of her seat and stood between them both, placing a hand on Chase's shoulder but at the same time threading Smallville's fingers with her own. Her body was now between the student and her partner, giving Clark time to calm himself as she comforted Chase.

"I'm sorry guys. I haven't talked about this in a while, so I guess it's coming back in a big way."

"It's okay, take your time."

"Thanks." He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve. "My mom would kill me if she knew I was here. After I moved back in with them and went back to school I said I wouldn't get involved with this ever again but it still burns me. Knowing that guy is out there and still having those crazy people following every word. He might even have more people now, new people. People like me and Suzanne"

"Hey, we're glad you came to talk to us. People need to know about this guy and how dangerous is. Your parents are so happy to have you back in their lives that they want to just put this past them. But it seems to me like you're not happy with leaving things as they are?" She cocked her head, considering his face. "Am I right?" He nodded. "Okay. Then the best thing you can do is tell us more. What happened next?"

"They said Suzanne hadn't wanted to do it when they told her about the ritual. Frank said he'd over-estimated her faith, that she was too immature, too selfish to be truly saved by Superman. Which was why I was the one who found her in the bath. I rescued her, not Superman. That proved their point."

Clark let go of her hand and she stepped back so he could see Chase again. "Exactly, you rescued her. Never forget that. You might have been tricked for a while but you were there for her when she really needed you. Not Superman," he said firmly. "You should have faith in yourself and what you can achieve." Lois bit her lip, and looked at box number 12. He never made things easy.

"I wish Suzie felt the same way," Chase whispered, his voice hoarse. "After I called her parents they took her home to Wichita. I haven't heard from her since. She was so angry with me for saving her. She said if _he_ wasn't going to rescue her, she didn't want anyone to. And definitely not me."

"She's alive and she's out of Frank Charter's clutches. She has the chance to put her life back together," Lois said.

"I guess. You know what's funny, I feel like I should be mad at Superman or something. I mean, he saved Frank Charter and he didn't save Tina. And he wasn't there for Suzanne. But I still can't be angry with him. I still look up at the sky when I step outside, hoping I'll see him. I guess you think I'm a real idiot." Clark leant forward and clasped his shoulder.

"No. We're all looking for something to believe in, I'm sure if Superman was here…I'm sure he'd thank you for your faith in him. But he's a man, underneath, just like you. The greatest people in our history never had super-powers."

"That's what my Mom always says," Chase's face crinkled into a smile. "But Ghandi couldn't fly, you know?"

"That would have been pretty cool," Lois smiled, despite herself. Chase seemed more at ease after that and they finished the interview with him shaking both their hands and thanking them. That was one of the quirks of the interviewing process. Sometimes you could take someone back to one of the worst times of their life and they'd thank you at the end of it. They needed to have someone listen sometimes. Secrets were hard to carry alone.

Once they'd seen him off the premises Lois glanced down at her watch. It was nearly five. The interview with Chase had taken nearly three hours.

"We have to stop Charter Lois," Clark said solemnly.

"I know. You need to go to the cops tonight and once they've told Summers' mother, we can go to print. Tomorrow night I guess. So the day after tomorrow it all comes out. That gives us 24 hours on this thing to see what we can dig up on Charter's whereabouts now. Chase might be able to get back to us with some numbers and addresses but I'm not holding out much hope we'll reach any active members. From what he said, soon as Suzanne's parents came into town the whole operation moved. Charter would have known there was a possibility they could cause a lot of trouble for them."

"Chase said quite a few people disappeared from the group around then though, went elsewhere. Including Callie from the second level. It sounded like she wasn't too happy that Charter was sleeping with Suzanne. If we could find her, we might be able to crack some of his secrets. Like whether they decided to move away from suicide and towards murder." It was possible that Frank had decided Superman needed greater proof of their faith than a simple swan-dive. Chase hadn't recognised any of the names or faces of the murder victims however although the group had often discussed the 'How to kill Superman' blog and how it was the symptom of a disturbing misconception about their God in wider society.

Lois sighed and rolled her shoulders, trying to get the stiffness out. She was so tired. But the story had to be told. It didn't matter if Maurie had just died, or if her best friend was lying to her, or if she was in love with an impossible man. The news kept on rolling and it felt like it was rolling directly over her at the moment.

"What's the box on your desk about?" Clark asked as they stepped into the elevator. Lois' eyes darted to him, to his still pale face and his drawn brow.

"Oh, that?" She shrugged. "Just something from Maurie's storage container."

"Oh yeah? Anything interesting?"

"Could be."

"Anything you need help with?" He smiled at her faintly as they arrived at their floor.

"It can wait."


	16. Chapter 16

According to her headstone, Anna Turner had lived to the grand old age of nineteen, dying on the day of the second meteor shower. If she hadn't flipped through the directory to remind herself where Jonathan Kent was buried, she might never had found the girl's name. Her mother appeared to be buried beside her. She'd only been forty-nine when she'd died, a few years before her daughter.

She'd already spent two hours she couldn't spare being read the riot act by Smallville's boys in blue, so why was she spending time hanging out in the cemetery? She had dead people back in Metropolis she could visit after all, including several people who were very dear to her. People like Jimmy or Maurie.

But she'd wanted to stop by Mr Kent's grave. There was no one in her life who she could voice all these ugly fears to. Talking to her father or even Lucy about Clark would seem disloyal, and despite everything, despite appearances that he was lying to her every day, she couldn't do it. She also felt embarrassed. Didn't she always pride herself on being in the loop? On being too sharp to fool twice? Ever since she'd turned up in Smallville she'd presented herself as a graduate of the School of Life, and as it'd turned out it was the only college she was ever going to be an alumni of. But what did that matter? She knew what the score was. She was Lois Lane.

It was hard to see how foolish that persona must appear to those closest to her. Here was Lois again, coming over like she knows how the world works, and she doesn't even twig that she's being lied to.

When she'd stopped to visit Mr Kent she'd looked at the stone in front of her and wondered how many lies he had told her. He and Martha had to be part of this too. They would do anything to protect their son. The son that Maurie seemed to think they had adopted in strange circumstances. The box with the adoption certificate had made that clear. She hadn't wanted to look into that part of Maurie's legacy at all but it had fallen over when she'd been extracting the box she had wanted. When she'd picked up the papers inside she'd seen enough to raise a lot of uncomfortable questions.

Had all that goodness she had seen in the Kent farm-house been a lie? And if it wasn't, what was so important that it needed to be covered with so much deception?

When she'd stood there she'd said some of the things out loud. "I haven't read box 12 yet. I considered some of the others. But 12 is the interview with Eric Summers, to name one. I know there's something bad in there Mr Kent. I know it. But I don't want to be afraid of all this anymore. I want to feel the way I always did about him."

That was the fear she was feeling now. That she was losing the man she had trusted above all others. And with him she would lose the trust in so many other beloved people, like the good man she had just laid flowers for. It was hard to understand.

But there wasn't enough time or space to find her feet. The Superman story was about to break and she had to be there to do it. She hadn't wanted this to be the last story she worked on about him. She couldn't really imagine working on more stories after this one though. She was so sick and tired.

Clark had had no luck tracking down active members of the Fellowship and former second leveller Callie appeared to have melted into the earth. The cops would have to track Frank Charter down for themselves. And the cops here in Smallville would hopefully apply some pressure on Belle Reeve.

Surely fighting the battle on two fronts had to yield results somewhere.

Eric Summers might end up somewhere alongside Anna Turner and Jonathan Kent once his mother arranged his funeral. But maybe she'd decide she didn't want him buried in the town where his downward spiral had started. The interview with her had been brief and incredibly painful. She had only officially learnt 12 hours beforehand that her son was dead but Lois knew she had already known somehow. Her house, so neatly painted and carefully tended from the outside was a disaster on the inside. Dust had begun to cover most surfaces. There was a sour smell in the kitchen coming from the sink. Cabinet doors were ajar slightly. Her face told the truth even more clearly; she was wearing weeks of agony, not hours. Her clothes hung loose. Never a big woman to begin with, she had shrunk in on herself to almost nothing.

There was no one there to help her with her grief, she was suffering alone. Lois hadn't been able to ask about her ex-husband and if he was coming and she'd brushed off Lois' suggestion that she call a neighbour for her. The woman was utterly alone. She'd practically fled the house when it became clear that she was prepared to say nothing except repeat tissue-thin lies about believing her son was in a coma.

But she had seen one thing of interest in the house. By the phone, on an otherwise empty memo-pad, was a number, heavy underlined. Lois had memorised it and scribbled it on her pad as soon as she'd got out of there. The woman had known her son had been let out of Belle Reeve but whoever she believed had done it, she felt she owed them her silence. Nothing but gratitude on behalf of her only child could have kept such a devastated woman quiet. She had nothing to fear, after all, the worst thing that could happen, had happened.

As for Superman's secret history, it was sidelined until this story eased off. Maybe something would come out of the Belle Reeve angle on Kal-El, maybe not. It didn't really matter, she had no desire to find out more. What good was the truth to her right now? Dinner with Terry had had to be postponed indefinitely and the motivations behind it seemed very foreign to her now. What was she trying to prove to herself anyway? That it didn't hurt? That she didn't need him?

"You know Jonathan Kent well?" She turned her head away from Anna Turner's grave and saw an old man dressed in green overalls leaning on a rake. She hadn't heard him walk up to her. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Saw you lay some flowers down for him."

Lois smiled quickly. "Lost in my thoughts. I did know Mr Kent. I stayed with his family for a while."

"You're that Lois Lane, aren't you? Friends with the Kent kid," he nodded. "Thought I recognised you. Boy, you sure get people in this place riled up." Lois shrugged. She'd had a few conversations that started this way and quickly became very uncomfortable. Not everyone was a fan of the freedom of the press when it meant lifting up the rocks to find their community's secrets underneath. "Doesn't bother me, those people up at Belle Reeve have always been trouble but they don't deserve all that sick business with experiments." He cocked his head. "You working on a story right now?"

"Just popped by to pay my respects." Thankfully news about her involvement with Tom Jordan's death hadn't seemed to reach the cemetery. Though the town was abuzz with wild stories about what Jordan and the dead cop might have been up to before they died.

"You didn't know the little Anna did you?" There was a look in his eyes now that seemed a little different. The cops had mentioned Turner's name in the interview earlier when they'd asked her if Jordan or Weathers had mentioned it before they died. So when she'd seen her name appear as she flicked through the list of interred, she'd been unable to resist. The death of this girl so many years ago in the meteor shower seemed an unlikely component in Jordan's and Weather's demise.

"No. But I did hear her name today. I was curious I guess," she shrugged.

"You know much about her then?"

"Just that she died in the meteor shower."

"Sure, sure," he nodded. "Funny that though. You must know all about her kin from those stories in your paper."

"Which kin?"

"Guess you don't." He came up to the graveside and looked down at the plot, his lips narrowed into a tight slash. "Saw you when you came in. I thought you might be here about her but if you're not…"

"Is there something I should know about her death?" He looked at her and then away at the rest of the grounds he tended. He seemed to come to a decision and replied,

"Not about her death. About her remains." He drew in a sharp breath and planted the end of the rake into the grass. "Cops don't know what to make of it and they don't want talk about it either. Paper don't seem interested but then everyone in this town is jumpy all of a sudden. No one wants to think about strange goings-on anymore, they've got too much strangeness in their own lives."

"The ghosts." He glared at her.

"I don't have nothing to say about that. Only dead I know are right here. Anyway, they said it was more than my job's worth and maybe I've been neglecting my duties, not locking up at night. They hope it will work out last time but it's been three months now."

"Since what?"

"Since someone snuck in and stole her coffin." Lois stared at the man in blank horror. Surely he hadn't meant to say that. He had to be spinning her a line. She looked down at the earth and only saw an undisturbed, neat grass lawn. He saw her glance and snorted. "You think we'd leave it empty? Less people know about it the better my boss says. But she's not down there, I swear it." She looked at his weathered face and considered his story. People didn't need a reason to lie, sometimes they did it for kicks. But he didn't seem like the kind of guy looking for kicks, and if he was, he wasn't working in the right business. If there was a bodysnatcher in town, it might explain why the cops had thrown the name at her earlier. Wouldn't it be neat if the dead men had something to do with such a macabre crime? What the hell was wrong with this town all of a sudden?

"I believe you. Nothing seems impossible here anymore. What do you know about her?"

"She was a spooky kid, lived with her mother before she died, kept themselves to themselves. Mother died a few years before her, cancer. But Anna was buried under her own house when a meteor came down on top of it. Her body got stolen two years ago as well. Came back after a few weeks. Her mother went then too. But both of them came back."

"Has her mother's body been stolen as well this time?"

"Nope, just Anna. Cops don't want me talking about it back then either you know but if you were to write about it…well, they couldn't get rid of me then, could they? Not if it was national news."

"Did they find out who took the bodies last time?"

"Said it was kids. Black magic I think. Or those sick fanatics who love serial killers, write to them in jail and such."

"I don't get it, why would a fan of murderers want their bodies?"

"Because of who they were related to, that's why. Like I said, in your paper."

"Who?"

"That Dyson. The one who tried to poison Metropolis. Cops picked him up in Smallville didn't they? Made sense to me that he came here to try and find his cousin. Ms Turner, never married. She was dead by then of course but Anna wasn't."

"Anna Turner was related to Dyson? But you said she died when her house was hit by the meteor shower?"

"Said she died in the shower, but didn't say the shower killed her. Dyson was one of those freaks with powers wasn't he? Paper said so. Seems like he might have been pretty close to a meteor at some point. Like in the Turner house. And if he was there, well, he wasn't taking tea with the girl, was he?" He shook his head, a mournful expression on his face.

"But the cops would have…" She began to protest.

"Cops!" He sneered. "They've turned their back on plenty things on this town. Girl was smashed to bits under half the roof. What did it matter, act of God, or act of that killer? Dyson was out of their hands. Most people don't know Mrs Turner was kin to him anyway. She didn't exactly talk much about it. But I knew her Momma see, spooky just like all the Turner women."

"I…" Lois was at a loss for what to say. She should have been digging out her notebook so she could take this all down but right now the thought of Dyson and this poor girl and bodysnatching was too much. Her phone buzzed in her bag and she knew it would be Clark, calling to know how the interview with the cops and Mrs Summers had gone. She needed to get back to the office. They were going to press in a few hours and the story still needed to be finished.

"I bet if you wrote about her then the cops would finally have to do something about it. Poor child had enough trouble in her life, she needs to rest," the man added.

"You're right. Look, I need to get back to work but if I take your name and your number, can I call you in a few days? I'd love to talk to you some more." She pulled out her notebook at last and made a note of his details, before repeating her excuses and quickly heading for her car. She needed to get of this town, and quickly.

"I'm not going nowhere, not like the bodies!" He called out behind her.


	17. Chapter 17

People presumed that Superman chose to stay away from engaging with the public world as much as he could because he was trying to be a neutral figure. He didn't want to appear on chat shows, he wasn't going to endorse political candidates, and he had no thoughts on the Oscars. He couldn't afford to be partial because he was for everyone, he was for anywhere. But what they didn't realise was the longer he spent in front of the news cameras or fielding questions on an earthquake or a house fire, the more he became conscious of the fact that he was wearing a cape.

A big, red cape.

When he was working, these slivers of self-consciousness didn't bother him. He was too busy concentrating on dismantling bombs or propping up buildings to notice he was even wearing a skin-tight red and blue costume. With boots. With Speedos.

Before he'd been able to fly he would never have even considered the outfit. He'd been quite content in his dark clothes and House of El symbol. But flying seemed to shake off some of his lingering doubts about his powers. He had left the kid's table behind and he was eating with the grown-ups. He needed to act the part. So he needed to project more of the authority and confidence he was starting to feel, make it bigger, appear more certain than he was. If he was going to convince himself he was really this hero, he needed to convince everyone else. The costume was part of it. Chloe had argued long and hard with him that he needed to go bombastic. Not only because he needed to be easy to see from a distance and he needed to look good on television. So it needed to be bright and tight.

As for the cape, well he was a flying superhero wasn't he? He was fantasy come straight to life, right off the comic-book pages. Chloe said give them what they expect, push those childhood buttons that every adult had buried in their brains. The dreams of an all-powerful man who would save you from the clasp of doom, who could descend from the blue sky above and change your life for the better.

He hadn't expected it to work so well. And there were consequences to its success of course. People could be dazzled by the costume, people like Lois, or people like those who followed Frank Charter. Chloe had told him she'd heard rumours of religious groups before but she hadn't paid too much attention to them. After all, they hadn't tried to blow something up or steal something, so they weren't big enough to worry about. There was enough major-scale disasters to worry about without losing sleep over some crazies building alters to him.

When it came to discussing some of adulation that he encountered, Chloe's responses ranged from cutting to contemptuous, which he was very grateful for. He knew he could always rely on her to bring him back down to earth if he ever got too carried away. But he'd ignored things like the Fellowship because they were simply too uncomfortable to think about.

The cops had managed to find Charter earlier that evening and were interviewing him later to see if he knew anything about the murders. He would be eavesdropping. There was no turning away from it now.

After all, the story wasn't going to be kept under wraps anymore, he and Lois had spent an hour with Perry arguing over how it should be broken. It was going to run, there was no question of that; it was just up to them to debate how it should be presented. Perry was favouring a big, big splash. The Kryptonian messages, the cops working under the assumption the victims were considered Superman's 'enemies', and Eric Summers being one of the dead. Lois had returned from interviewing his mother that morning and the experience had wrung her out. She had been a shadow of her usual self all day. Sorting through Maurie's storage container only seemed to have made everything worse for her. He'd offered to help her, she knew how hard sorting through a loved one's possessions could be. But she'd quickly refused, a fierce look in her eyes. She was still driving around with one of the boxes in her boot. He'd seen it that morning when he passed her car. It didn't bode well. Whatever that box represented to her, she wasn't able to deal with it yet. She needed time to grieve for her mentor properly but this story was taking up too much of her already depleted energy.

She was standing on the roof now, looking paler than usual, waiting for him as he gently descended to the asphalt.

"Hi Su…sorry, Kal-El," she smiled a little sheepishly. "It'll take me a while to get used to that." Her whole body seemed to be vibrating with unease. He almost sighed. Seeing her unhappiness with him would be easier to handle if she didn't also seem to be uncomfortable around him when he was Clark. Whilst he knew how he'd upset her as Superman, he wasn't clear how he'd managed the rest. It meant right now he didn't seem to have her vote of confidence as either man.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting. I had…some stuff to do," he finished weakly. Her discomfort seemed to be infectious, he was sounding ridiculous. Since when did Superman talk like that? So much of the act was the words, the intonation. Bruce knew all about that and as much as he was loathe to admit it, the older man knew his stuff.

"Stuff? Since when do you have 'stuff'?"

"It's been a rough few weeks," he offered. She considered this and then nodded.

"I guess it has. I don't have good news I'm afraid. We're running the story on the Kryptonian element in the murders." She was being polite and not saying 'The Superman Slayings', as it was in fact going to be titled tomorrow. He'd passed the raging discussion between Perry and the chief sub-editor as he'd left the office to change. The cheap but affective assonance in the headline was winning the argument and he was sure it would go to print.

Lois handed him a print-out of the story, without the provocative headline and he quickly scanned it, though he had laboured over every sentence with Lois himself.

When he'd spoken to Chloe earlier she'd gone into a tailspin, detailing all the ways this development was a disaster for him. But people were dead, and however indirectly, he was connected to that. There were worse things that bad press. Whilst she understood that, she also didn't understand why he couldn't find some way to keep delaying the story.

He'd explained to her that he was a journalist, and that wasn't how it worked.

She'd said he was Superman before he was a reporter.

He'd asked if he was Superman before he was Clark Kent as well.

She'd told him he wasn't thinking about the big picture and hung up.

When Chloe started talking about the big picture, it normally sent alarm bells ringing in his head but right now he didn't have the time he wanted to try and talk things out with her. Though he reminded himself he had time to try and do that with Lois. It was a testament to his friend's generosity that she didn't hold that against him. But the more trouble emerged the more she seemed to slip down his list of priorities. He needed to talk to her about the dreams in Smallville. He also needed to ask her about the big metal box she had put in the Watchtower.

Oliver had said he'd seen inside it and it was empty but this information didn't comfort him as much as it should. It was the very fact of the thing. He hadn't seen one like it for two years and whatever happened, things couldn't go back to the way they had been back then.

So why was he here talking to Lois when he should be with Chloe?

"Supe…Kal-El? Is something wrong? I don't seem to have your attention." He handed the story back to her.

"Sorry Lois, I was thinking about the problem. The story has to run, I know that. You have a responsibility to the truth, so do I. I just wish the story didn't run the risk of putting you in more danger. I read about your encounter with that cop in Smallville." She shrugged.

"Would you believe I used to get in just as much trouble before I was a journalist? Anyway, Smallville is that kind of place, it looks as wholesome as anything but it's got a dark side. Haven't we all?" She glanced at him. "Though maybe you don't."

"I'm as human as you are," he said suddenly and then regretted it as she arched her eyebrow. "In a manner of speaking." She wasn't about to let this slide like the 'stuff' comment. He was amazed at how careless he was becoming around her. The walls between Clark Kent and Superman were crumbling. Now he'd made the conscious decison to come clean with her, his unconscious seemed intent on carrying this through.

"You always said you considered this planet your home but you never said you thought of yourself as human as well. In fact you always said you were an alien."

"What I meant was I'm as fallible as any other man. But I always emphasised the fact I was an alien because it was important that people can accept aliens into their midst. I wanted to prove that though I'm different, I'm no threat."

"Why does it matter if people see you as human or non-human, since you're the only alien we've got?"

"That might not always be the case," he said guardedly. He hadn't ever wanted the true numbers of aliens who had been on the planet to become common knowledge. As of the current time, he was the only one around, apart from John Jones. When he'd made his first public appearance he'd been conscious of the fact that aliens had very nearly done a great deal of damage to Earth and he wanted to present a positive image. The Legion had made clear this was an important element of his work. That didn't mean he wanted anyone to think a fleet of flying saucers was hiding behind the moon, just waiting to swoop down.

"What, you've got relatives coming to visit?" She covered her mouth guiltily as she released what she'd said. "Sorry, that was grossly insensitive. I forgot."

"Don't worry about it." He tried to make her feel better by adding, "I do actually have one living relative, my cousin. But I haven't seen her in years."

"Really, a Superwoman?" She smiled slightly, relieved he wasn't angry with her because of her faux pas. "Guys are going to love that. Is she as hot as she sounds?" He frowned.

"Uh…"

"Never mind," she said, "private joke. But if she shares the family genes, she's bound to be popular." She looked uncomfortable again as she strayed onto the topic of fans. She was so on edge that her nerves were making him even more uneasy. "I guess now isn't the right time to release this news to the public at large. But can we talk about it again one day?"

"Maybe."

"It must be nice for you to know you have family out there, somewhere. I thought you were all alone."

"I thought I was too, for a long time," he said softly. He seemed to be staring right into her eyes and she seemed content to look straight back at him. A long moment passed before she looked away and it was back to business.

"I haven't made any progress on Superman: The Early Years," she said wearily. "But the present is worrying me more than the past right now. The cops have picked up Charter, thank god for that, but he just seems to be obsessed with you because you saved his life. Killing Eric Summers might just have been a coincidence. After all, he probably wasn't your biggest fan right?" Clark nodded. "You met in Smallville, that's how he got your powers, and why he ended up in Belle Reeve."

"Yes."

"So he came in contact with you before you were the Blur," she added. Though she had seemed uncharacteristically subdued during their conversation, there was a glint of interest in her eyes when he mentioned his back-story. She said she wanted nothing to do with digging through his dirty laundry but despite that, her instincts were still there. The part of her that wanted to understand the picture, to see the facts slot into place, still compelled her to know.

"That's why I wanted you to investigate Eric Summers' connection to me."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why can't you tell me explicitly? What possible reason could there be for all this jerking me around." This was one of the big questions and he saw no reason not to tell her more. Letting her think he was just playing with her emotions was cruel.

"I wanted to maintain the life I had apart from Superman, that's why I kept my identity secret as the Blur. And I needed to keep the people in my life safe. Which meant I had to have a way to prevent people recognising who I really was."

"So you're not some hermit living in a cave on your days off. You have a normal life apart from this?" She smiled sardonically. "As normal as it could be anyway. There's always been conjecture but everyone thought…I don't know. Like maybe you hung out in some secret superhero clubhouse, living off a trust fund. Or sold Superman mechanise on the web. Or took pictures of yourself for a newspaper. Do you have a job?"

He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all but it wasn't fair to.

"Oh yes."

"But…" she frowned. "How could that ever work? You have to respond at a moment's notice…you must work from home. You use your super-speed to stuff envelopes?"

"No."

"You go out to work everyday?" She pulled a face. "How don't you get fired? Does your boss know? Wait, this wouldn't work, how do you prevent people not recognising you? We're not back to that pull off your face and you're a lizard thing are you?"

"The scale of the problem required a rather dramatic solution. One that affects almost everyone I come in contact with. I have a…tool, that means people can see my face, and not recognise it if they see me out of this costume." A small smile played across Lois' face as she innocently asked,

"So if you stripped naked, it wouldn't affect me?" Clark felt himself blush. He really had not meant to make it sound like that. Lois seemed to make regaining the upper hand effortless sometimes. Trying to summon up some of Superman's unflappability he cleared his throat and said,

"I didn't express myself quite right." Though if the shield did have such a loophole, it would have proved a neat symmetry. She'd met him when he was naked, and she could have recognised him again while he was in the raw. Thankfully the symmetry wasn't about to be enacted because he'd covered this scenario with Chloe and Zatanna in case he'd ever been severely injured or held against his will. He'd have had to spend several weeks without clothing to break down the effects. Once Lois realised how much he'd been lying to her, he doubted she'd want to see him at all, let alone so much of him.

"Pity."

"I meant to say that if you saw my face when I wasn't acting as Superman, you wouldn't be able to match that image with the one you have in your mind of my face when I'm Superman. It's very difficult for people to get past that, though not impossible. If you learn the truth, the whole truth, it can break down the effects of the shield."

"How did you manage to create this thing?"

"The technology is mostly Kryptonian and a little complicated but I can go into it if you'd like." Lois shook her head and frowned, tapping her foot on the ground. She was clearly considering the implications.

"So if you met me tomorrow in your civilian guise, I wouldn't recognise you? I can't believe that. I know you!" This was one of the many hurtful aspects to the shield. It was going to damage her own trust in her perception, in her own ability to interpret the world around her.

"In some ways, better than anyone I've ever known. But I'm afraid it works too well. You are the acid test Lois. If you don't recognise me, then it's likely no one else will."

"Then I have met you, as the other you," she said quietly, her face going pale. He nodded. She dipped her head, her hair falling across her face. Would it be easier to do this all now? Or was this process the only way she would come to understand the magnitude of the lie? It felt like he was slowly strangling their relationship. But this day had always had to come. He had acted with cowardice when he had first started going out with her and now he had made everything harder for them both. But self-flagellation wasn't going to help anyone. "I can't talk about that anymore. Okay? Today has been too much. I came up here because I was hoping you might give a quote." Clearly the revelations part of the conversation was over.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that Lois."

"You're a smart guy, you know how this is going to go. You need to comment on this story, you'd be stupid not to!"

"And what can I say to these people? That I'm sorry for the loss of their loved ones? That I condemn these killings? Or that I'll do everything I can to help with the official investigation?"

"Uh, all that sounds pretty good, yeah."

"Well write it if you think it will help. But I don't think it will."

"Look Kal-El, your name is going to be at the top of the front page, you need to at least recognise this story exists!"

"I do recognise it exists."

"But you think that by putting your words there you're somehow validating it? You're burying your head in the sand. If you close your eyes, this does not go away!"

"I know that," he said angrily.

"Then let me run the quote," she said firmly. "If you're so human, then you're not too good to put your comments under this ugly story."

"I never claimed I was better than this Lois," frustrated she seemed to believe he believed he was some deity. Though he had acted in a high-handed way when he 'allowed' her to look into his past. Could he really blame her?

"Yeah, well, you are," she said sadly, her anger deflating quickly. "This story is all that's horrible about us and it shouldn't taint what you are. Those crazies like Charter and whoever else, who think you're some wrathful god who wants people to kill in his name, they shouldn't be on the same page as you! I wanted to protect you from this. But I was burying my head in the sand."

He walked a little closer to her.

"I can't control what people think of me, and neither can you. Neither should we want to."

"But it's just not fair! You work so hard for us and these people drag your name through the mud! And I'm helping them." He shook his head and put a hand on her shoulder. He head jerked up at his touch.

"Never, ever doubt what you're doing now is the right thing. You're risking your own safety far more than I am. My reputation isn't more important than your life."

"But it is," she said quietly.

"No Lois. Nothing is more important than your life."

"The rest of the world?" She asked weakly. The distance between them seemed to have eroded.

"That all seems very far away right now," he said, his other hand moving slowly towards her face. Then, she seemed to register what he was doing and stepped backwards quickly, her expression hardening.

"No. Forget it. I might have been a hatful of crazy the last time we spoke but I was right about some things. This needs to be my last story on you. You can't just swoop in and mess with my head whenever a crisis hits. I don't want to know what secrets you've been keeping, I don't want to know about any more lies."

"What other lies are you talking about?"

"Do you know what I told Clark before I came up here? That I was going out to get some tacos for us. Why couldn't I tell him where I was really going? Why is that so hard? Why are you so difficult? If I can lie to him so easily, why should I be surprised that he's been lying to me?"

"Lying to you?" The conversation was taking a very disturbing turn. Lois did not talk to her about his 'other him' when they met. And if she did, it was veiled references to an annoying, flaky presence in her life.

"Why should you care, you've never asked me about Clark, not once! I'm surprised you even know who he is. It's like the two of you exist in separate universes."

"It's not a very…easy topic to discuss," he said carefully.

"Oh, what, because we dated a long time ago? Clark and I have been dead and buried for years but he's still one of the best friends I have. Maybe the best. You were never in competition." She was blithely throwing out so many hurtful sentences that he couldn't seem to grasp them, so he retorted instead,

"If he hadn't been such an idiot maybe we would be."

"Hold on a second, what the hell are you talking about?"

"The stupidest move Clark Kent ever made was letting you go."

"Excuse me, Clark didn't _let me go_, I bailed on us! What business is it of yours anyway!"

"Of course it's my business! Don't you see, we're alike!" Lois crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him askance.

"You're both male but there the resemblance ends. Honestly, have you been…"

"No Lois. Clark Kent is crazy about you…"

"Don't even start on…"

"…and so am I."

A wide silence stretched between them. Lois was staring at him as if he'd just told her he was relinquishing the cape for a career in mime, exactly what he'd been trying to avoid. This was a perfect of example of why he hated secret identities and why he had been right the first time around. If he'd never used the shield he wouldn't be toying with her in this ridiculous fashion, desperately trying to avoid talking about himself in the third person, trying not to say too much in case she simply refused to believe it. He had to edge her towards the truth gently in case she got hurt but the more he persisted with this farce the more it would hurt when she did work it out. He decided waiting for Lois' horrified expression to fade could stretch out the timetable a little too far and opted to speak again.

"Clark Kent and Superman feel exactly the same way about you. We have a lot more in common than you think. And you need to think about that. Seriously think about that."

Lois continued to stare at him. Where was a black hole when he needed one? Surely that had to be powerful enough to extract him from this agonising conversation. He had hoped that if he ever told her about his feelings, a least a portion of them, that it would all go down a lot better than this. He'd been hoping for tears of joy, heated embraces. Even a polite, thanks but no thanks would have been better than this horrified expression.

"Right. I'm going to go now." He turned to leave and she grabbed the end of his cape. That damn cape.

"Wait. You like me."

"Yes."

"You like me, like me."

"Yes."

"Even if I could buy that, I still couldn't swallow the rest of it. You and Smallville…."

"I know more about Clark Kent than you think."

"This is unfair. What are you trying to do to me?" Her hand tightened on his cape as if it were a security blanket. He hated himself at moments like this. If he could have given it all up, undone his whole life as Superman, he would. At moments like this, as important as his duty to the world, to his heritage, to himself even, was, it felt like nothing when weighed against her pain.

"I never wanted to hurt you." She let her hand fall away and began to turn away. "Lois, wait. I made some bad decisions, and I've regretted them ever since. I thought I was trying to protect you but…I was protecting myself."

"From what?" She snapped as she looked over her shoulder.

"From this. From losing you."

"I can't believe you!" She faced him, her hands on her hips and disgusted look on her face. "You know what, _Kal-El_? You are just as human as the rest of us. Because right now you are just like every messed-up, waste of my time, creep that I have ever dated! I don't doubt you are the bravest, strongest, noblest man I have ever met but you are also the stupidest. How am I honestly supposed to react to all this? What kind of fool do you take me for? I'm Team Superman okay? I back you, I will always look out for you. But you can't screw around with my head like this. I don't care how many times you've swooped in to rescue me, I don't care if you took a bullet for me! Unless I'm about to get too closely acquainted with the laws of gravity, stay. Away. From me." She marched to the fire door and slammed it behind her as she left.

Clark stared after her.

Superman had never taken a bullet for her. Clark Kent had. She had just confused the two of them.


	18. Chapter 18

"And also with us tonight is Janet Charon, author of best-selling 'The Superman Years'. Janet, thanks for being here."

"My pleasure Tom."

"So, in the light of today's developments, where does this leave us? How has Frank Charter's latest move changed the understanding of Superman? Steve?"

"Well Tom, I think everyone has been wrong-footed by Frank Charter today. When the story first broke, it was all about the murders, and what kind of crazy person might be committing them. But over the last few days we've seen a groundswell of support for Charter and his beliefs. I don't think we really understood the scale of the religious movement around Superman."

"And this suit against the Metropolis P.D. is going to keep him firmly in the public eye for the foreseeable future. Does Charter have a case?"

"Charter has been accused of some pretty shocking things by the press but if the police continue to harass him without a shred of evidence, you have to say his first amendment rights to freedom of religious expression have been threatened. He's made this about faith, not about these brutal killings."

"The ACLU has refused to offer its support."

"He's a controversial figure and I think the ACLU is wary of getting its fingers burned if the murder investigation into the Superman Slayings turns up some proof of his or his followers involvement. But you saw the turn-out at the courthouse today, the man has fans, and his cause has followers."

"If I might cut in Steve, I think that's exactly what's so troubling about these last few days. Superman has until now been largely seen as a positive force in our world. Like I explained in my book, 'The Superman Years', he's a kind of super-powered fireman, serving the people and standing for ideals we all believe in, regardless of colour or creed. But Superman as a figure of faith? It's a worrying development. He runs the risk of becoming a highly divisive figure, just when it seemed like the international community were growing used to his presence."

"So you're saying Janet that the New Son Fellowship and movements like it are bad news for Superman?"

"Of course."

"But aren't these New Son followers entitled to their beliefs?"

"Look, all our lives changed the moment Superman first appeared in public. He's changed and challenged how we all feel about the universe and our role in it, just like I explored in my book. But he's not the son of God."

"And coming up right after these messages, a caller from Tribeca who says she _does_ believe Superman is the son of God, and that he's here to deliver all our souls, including mine. Stay tuned."

Lois turned off the television in disgust. Frank Charter was one of the nastiest pieces of work she had ever encountered. The cops hadn't been able to hold him for very long, and they were still chasing down leads, hoping evidence from the crime labs would provide a link to Charter. But even more worrying was the fact more and more people had been emerging who seemed to believe, like the cult leader, that the last son of Krypton was the messiah. The messiah!

"You shouldn't watch those shows," Clark pointed out as he returned from the bathroom. At least, she presumed he'd gone to the bathroom, it's where he'd said he was going and she'd heard the flush but with Clark nowadays, weren't all bets off? She rolled her eyes at his response.

"Only Clark Kent could believe he can insulate himself from media while working in a newsroom. We have to watch this stuff, they're talking about our story."

"It's Frank Charter's story at the moment," he frowned, joining her on the couch. He leant his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face with both hands. She knew she was starting to look a little worn around the edges but Clark was a little faded himself right now. "Everyone seems to be forgetting that people are dead and the killer could still be out there." Lois felt guilty, she'd overlooked that fact herself a few moments ago as well, she was too focussed on the effect this was having on Superman, and not only on his public perception. She knew she shouldn't care, she had reason enough to despise the man right now but still she was worried about him.

God she was a sucker.

"Perry's still smarting about his interview," Lois added. "Every time I pass his office I can hear him barking down the phone to someone about it. Says he was right about television being the place journalism goes to die."

"Yeah, well, 'Superman: wrathful God or just misunderstood?' isn't the classiest lead for a current affairs programme. Maybe we should have been expecting this. I was worried people would think Superman was some kind of closet psychopath but instead…" He leant back and gestured as if to encompass the whole mess in his hands. "This. Hey, are we running late by the way?"

"For once, no," she said. "We don't have to leave for the restaurant for a bit."

"Good," he nodded absently. He looked over at her coffee table and noticed her laptop was on, a bouncing House of El shield acting as her screensaver. "You working on something?"

"Yep." He smiled at her.

"Anything you feel like discussing, partner?"

"Nope." She shrugged. "This one…it's kind of personal, you know. Perry's given me the go-ahead to run it in Saturday's edition but I've been thinking about it for a few days."

"And it's about this situation?"

"It's about Superman." He didn't look pleased to hear that and she instantly wished she hadn't mentioned it. She could have lied after all, didn't she lie to Clark a lot nowadays? But she still hadn't worked out exactly what from her conversation with Kal-El was bothering her, beyond the revelation she'd met the off-duty version and the declarations of liking_ liking_. But she felt like she'd missed something. How had Clark suddenly become a topic of discussion between them? It had been uncomfortable enough when she had to talk about Superman with Clark but hearing the superhero discuss her ex had been downright bizarre. "Anyway, I'm still fooling around with it. I'll show you it when I'm done of course. Who else is going to catch my typos?"

"So you admit you're a terrible speller?"

"Actually, I put them in there so you can feel useful," she said airily. "It's a concession to your rampant ego."

"Lois, in all the years I've known you, you've never made concessions to my ego," he laughed. She got up and walked over to the kitchen, yanking open the fridge door. "In fact, you've made it your mission in life to remind me what an ass I am." She sniffed the open carton of milk and recoiled. Yep, it was still curdled. She returned it to its shelf and moved her nail polish out of the way and smiled. Hiding at the back was the good stuff.

"You know I love you really," she called over her shoulder to him. As soon as the sentence was out she realised how inappropriate it really was. She and Clark didn't use the L word, not even when they'd been going out. And well, they were just friends, partners, and that was an arrangement that was coming under increasing strain. What had she been thinking? Tonight really had to go ahead now, despite her reservations. It was essential that Smallville be moved back to a distance again. She couldn't handle this amount of Kent right now, it was doing funny things to her head.

As she tried to cool her cheeks in the refrigerated air she continued on, trying to sound as if her last comment hadn't sunk into a silent morass. "Now I've reassured you, do you want some jello?" There was a brief pause before Clark responded.

"Jello? Before we go out to eat?"

"It's a palate cleanser," she walked back into the lounge and threw him his portion.

"Tropical Medley flavour," he snorted.

He caught her eye for a moment before she looked away. He looked as weirded out as she was. Oh for the days when the biggest awkwardness between them was when their underwear got mixed up in Martha's laundry. The poor boy had once been so on edge around her that she could infuriate him with a glance. Though maybe that was doing him a disservice. Hadn't he always had the power to get under her skin as well? He'd been annoying as hell from the first.

She slumped on the couch and tried to ignore the uneasy prickling along the side of her closest to him. Pulling off the plastic cover, she tipped the jello back into her mouth. She closed her eyes and exhaled.

"Long month," Clark said after a few moments.

"Long month," she agreed. After a few minutes of silence and intermittent jello slurping, they left her apartment. Since the restaurant was close enough and the weather was pleasant, they agreed to walk. She was glad when Clark didn't immediately strike up a conversation. The quiet was allowing her to claw back her composure. This really wasn't the night to start up with the sexual tension again. It was an irritant, a persistent irritant true, but it could be controlled and ultimately ignored. After all, wasn't he a liar?

But rather than her anger with Clark negating those old feelings, they seemed to stoke the embers. It didn't make any sense to her but somehow confronting the deception that underpinned her relationship with him meant she had to confront other facts. Like as long as she pretended he wasn't really lying to her, she could pretend she wasn't really lying to herself about not still being very attracted to him.

It felt like she couldn't even rely on herself anymore to behave the way she expected.

"You okay?" She was grateful when his voice cut into her steadily escalating worries.

"Sure. Just thinking about the past."

"Anything in particular?"

"Maurie. He told me I had good instincts once. I'm not so sure anymore."

"You do have good instincts. They make you the best reporter at the Planet."

"Where'd you hear that?" She said with a faint smile.

"A very reliable source. A highly respected colleague."

"Perry?"

"No, a reporter. Her copy sometimes seems like she's typed it with her elbows," he laughed as she jabbed him in the ribs, "but she writes one hell of a story."

She decided to play along. Clark wasn't always the smoothest guy but he could still bring a smile to her lips. "What's this source like then?"

"Bossy, really cranky without coffee, rude, impulsive, passionate, dedicated…"

"Sounds like a pain."

"My most trusted source," he said with a solemn face and a hand over his heart. She rolled her eyes at him and punched him in the arm.

"Smallville, when are you going to stop being so…so….?" He linked his arm with hers and offered,

"Funny?"

"At your best, you're a wiseass," she said.

"Be careful Lane, that ego of mine is going to get out of control again." Though she had initially stiffened as he drew her closer, she felt her body relax as he began to tell her about a story he'd heard in the office. It was odd that it was only now, for the first time in days, that she felt herself begin to enjoy herself. Was this the thing she had always feared, that she would adapt to the way Clark treated to her and find a way to live with, just so she could keep him in her life?

She had told him something about lying once, that everyone does it but they always have their reasons. Understanding those motivations was what she did for a living. A man like Jonathan Kent didn't do those things for bad reasons. They were all trying to protect him. Didn't they understand she only wanted to do the same thing? He was Smallville after all.

It seemed like that still meant something to her, despite her anger.

"You know you look really lovely tonight," Clark commented as they approached the restaurant entrance. She looked up at him and this time neither of them broke eye contact. When he'd unlinked their arms, his hand had moved instead to the small of her back. Now her arm was trapped between their bodies, her palm flat on his chest.

"Just threw on something from the back of the closet," she murmured.

"I always liked this dress," he said softly, his free hand lightly brushing the silk covering her shoulder. "You wore it on our first date." She swallowed. She did remember but she had been hoping he wouldn't. After all, that had been a very long time ago now. There was so much water under the bridge. Still, wasn't it telling of her state of mind that she had picked this one, above all other outfits? She still remembered his face when she opened the door to him as he arrived to pick her up.

"You never knew what hit you," she replied.

"You have no idea," he smiled crookedly. She was about to respond when a couple exited in front of them. Taking the opportunity to extricate herself from an act of self-sabotage, she grabbed hold of the door and waved him through with a bright smile.

"Don't want to keep her waiting!" He nodded and entered. As they waited to check in their coats, Lois began to fidget. This was going to be a total catastrophe. There was a plan for this evening, and a re-run of highlights from the Lois and Clark Lingering Glances back-catalogue was not included in it.

"I can't see your sister," Clark frowned. "Hey, is that…" his voice trailed off and she saw he was looking towards the back of the room. There, seating in a dimly lit corner, was Terry. "Lois. Tell me we're here to have dinner with your sister," his voice came out completely flat. She studiously avoided looking at him and instead picked up a menu from the maitre d's station in front of her.

"Hey, this food looks great! They have steak tartare. Oooh, and maybe some fungi risotto for me." He clasped her wrist and she reluctantly looked at him. He was mad.

"Forget the fungi, what is going on?"

"Fine. I lied. But Terry doesn't know that. She thinks you suggested it."

"This is seriously out of line Lois, I said I wasn't…" he smiled sarcastically as he realised what she had done. "I said I wasn't interested in anyone new. Very cute." She slipped her arm out of his grasp and made a face at him.

"I thought so. Let's face it Clark, you need a woman in your life."

"You are the woman in my life," he hissed at her as they walked to their table.

"That's a sad indictment of your personal life Smallville. Like I told you, you need to learn how to date an actual adult woman without screwing it up. Terry's crazy enough to give you a second chance and you should count yourself lucky." They broke off their whispered conference as Terry noticed them and stood up.

Unfortunately Terry had decided to wear a beautiful red dress that contrasted her abundant black curls and complimented her warm skin-tone. Lois had forgotten how stunning the woman could be. Judging by Clark's reaction, he had forgotten as well.

"Clark, Lois, so good to see you." She kissed their cheeks rapidly and then settled back in her seat. "Well? Sit." Lois nudged Clark towards his chair and she sat beside him, opposite Terry. Now he was stuck between her and the wall, which would hopefully prevent him dashing out to return a library book. There was no way he was jumping ship this time. "The two of you have been busy recently huh? I've seen the headlines."

"Yeah, well, not as busy as you as I bet, vaccinating all those orphans and nuns!" Lois said, an unnaturally wide smile on her face. "How those orphans doing anyway?"

"They're fine," Terry said, looking away from Lois and focussing her attention on Clark. "Clark, I can't believe how long it's been. You're looking really good."

"Uh, thanks. You, uh, look nice too." Terry smiled prettily in response.

"I try my best. You know, I've missed our chats. It seems like at one point we could stay up into the small hours, just setting the world to rights."

"That's Clark alright, all talk, no action," Lois chipped in awkwardly. Clark glared at her and Terry merely smiled.

"Oh I wouldn't say there was no action, would you Clark?" This time she actually seemed to bat her eyelashes. What the hell was this woman's problem, and since when had Terry been so nuts over Clark anyway? Hadn't she been calling him every name under the sun when they last met? Hadn't she had to persuade her to even come to this meal, tell her that Clark was ready to settle down with someone special?

"Uh, I…"

"You don't have to answer that, I'm just teasing," and she placed her hand over his on the table. Her quickly removed his to pour himself some water from the carafe. "Oh yes, we should order some drinks and starters. I hope you're hungry Clark." Clark fumbled the jug and spilt some water on his jacket arm. Muttering that he needed to dry the stain, he stood up. Lois fixed him with a stare. There was no way she was letting him get away from this table and leaving her alone with Terry and her sudden transformation into a Smallville-fixated siren. But to her surprise Clark seemed to lift her whole seat half a foot to the right so he could get past.

She sent him her patented death-stare as he escaped to the bathroom. He was a dead man walking. Didn't he realise she was doing this for them? It was in both their best interests that he date someone.

"He's still the same old Clark," Terry said.

"If it ain't broke, right?" Lois said, hoping Terry's observation was positive.

"Sure. I see you two are still the same as well."

"'You two'? There is no us two."

"Oh, it's one of those days is it?" She sighed, buttering a piece of bread carefully.

"What days? Look Terry, I admit this is a little bit of a weird set-up and love doctor is not my style but you two are great together. You always were."

"Uh-uh, we were only great because you two are great. Lois and Clark, Lane and Kent, blah blah blah." Lois winced at Terry's bitter tone. She glanced at the other woman's martini glass. She'd brought a drink from the bar and she wasn't convinced this was the first either. A drunk Terry could be a really mad Terry. "You think I didn't know as soon as I saw his face that this whole thing was your idea?"

"Uh…"

"You think that's a smart trick? I really cared about him Lois and you were supposed to be my friend." Lois felt ashamed suddenly. "So if you want to play games with my feelings, I can play games with yours." Before she could reply, Clark returned, apologising profusely.

"Shall we order?" He said with a forced smile as he opened the menu. "Look Lois, they have fungi risotto! Your favourite. I think I'll have the steak."

"Good choice Clark. It's always nice to see a man with a healthy appetite," Terry beamed as she swept her hair over her shoulder, exposing the sweep of her neck. Clark did an admirable job of tearing his eyes away and focussing on the bread basket.

"Wow, bread," he said, reaching desperately for a piece.

The conversation took a downward turn from there, as Terry became increasingly admiring and Clark became increasingly bewildered. Lois on the other hand knew exactly what she was up to her with the hair flicks and the leaning forward but that didn't stop it having the intended effect. This wasn't like watching some barista or Cat throw herself at him. Terry and he had history. Once upon a time she had been able to make him laugh, make him smile. And now she was happy just to make him squirm. He clearly wasn't prepared to deal with this crazy version of Terry and kept on looking at the door longingly.

But as perturbed as he was, it was nothing on what she was feeling. Perhaps it was idiotic but the sight of Terry running a hand over his as he reached for his glass made her stomach hurt. Jealously wasn't a new emotion when it came to him but this was different. This shouldn't even be registering. She knew Terry was just getting revenge for being embarrassed and she knew that Clark had been lying to her but none of that seemed to matter. The pain was still there.

Once the starters had arrived, Terry seemed to be temporarily distracted by eating but Lois just moved her own food around the plate as she tried to quell the instinct to put a fork in Terry's hand the next time she made a grab for Smallville. Suddenly he moved his chair back sharply and stood up.

"Bathroom again," he blurted out, and picked up her chair with her in it to effect his escape. Judging by the innocent expression on his ex's face, she had been doing something untoward with her foot under the table.

"Problem Lois?" Lois ignored her and got up. Walking quickly to the bathrooms, she prayed a break from the hellish meal would enable her to wrest back control of her emotions.

"Damn," she cursed and kicked the wall. Her control wasn't much better and now her toes hurt. Clark stepped out of the men's room into the corridor at that moment.

"Lois! What the hell is going on? I've been hiding in here."

"Okay, I may have made a bad decision here."

"Bad decision? Terry never acts like this! What did you tell her, that I was into crazy girls?!"

"Her preying mantis act is just an act, she's trying to annoy me because I lied to her about this," Lois crossed her arms.

"Annoy you? What about me? If I go back in there she'll be on my lap before the dessert course!"

"This is all your fault anyway. If you hadn't broken up with the poor girl, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"You arranged this dinner."

"I'm not talking about the dinner," she snapped. He held his hands up.

"What then? What mess?"

"Oh you know very well what mess I mean. Maybe you've forgotten but I'm not single, okay, so we can't do this…thing, we're doing."

"What thing? And please drop the pretence, you are single."

"Uh, hello, Jake ring any bells?"

"Not with you, he hasn't called you in a month!"

"I spoke to him just yesterday."

"Lois, your 'mmmm, uh huh, oh you're so sweet honey bun' one-sided fake phone calls don't fool anyone! How could you believe I wouldn't notice?" Lois shrugged, he was kidding himself if he thought she was going to act embarrassed. The key to rescuing this situation was to pretend she was acting entirely sensibly. No concessions to logic.

"So I'm faking a relationship, so what?"

"You pretended those chocolates were from him," he added. "And what about the balloons!"

"Those could have been my balloons!"

"They said Happy Silver Anniversary on them, they were for Rhonda on four."

"She has an over-compensating husband anyway, the guy's got to dial it back," she huffed. "Probably cheating on her."

"Why didn't you just say something?"

"It's just a theory about her husband, I'm not gonna wreck the woman's marriage, geez."

"Jake, Lois. Why lie about this?" She stared down at the floor. No way was she going to cry. He came up to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "You can tell me anything."

"I really can't. Not right now. Things are just too…too much. You're too much." She looked up into his face. Those cheekbones, the inky dark hair, and the light, sharp eyes. Always seemed able to do funny things to her, those eyes. Maybe if he'd been less handsome it would be easier. And less smart or funny or brave or kind. She had to face it, if even finding Maurie's Pandora's box of a storage container hadn't made this easier, what could? "Please Clark, I can't handle this on top of everything. I need you to stop touching me, to stop saying these things like…like we're still together. We're not."

"We could be." Lois' heart sank. She really hadn't wanted to hear that. His hands slid from her shoulders to caress her bare arms. That felt too good for it to be healthy. Had he always made her feel like this with just a simple touch? "I was a fool to throw what we had away. I messed everything up. But I can't bear to be like this with you anymore. I need you back Lois. I need you."

She had several options. She could tell him where to stick it. She could tell him she knew he was a lying sonofabitch. She could tell him that Superman had declared his intentions only the other day and that if she'd shot the Man of Steel down, she wasn't about to say yes to him.

But looking at his face, feeling his hands on her, she really only had one viable option. She leant forward and kissed him.


	19. Chapter 19

The first time she had kissed Clark Kent, _really_ kissed Clark Kent, she had finally understood how crazy he could make her. Flicking pens at her, smiling at her like he had the secrets of the universe and wasn't about to share, even giving her a talking to because she had used slightly shady methods to get a story, that was all amateur leagues.

This man could have her unsteady on her feet in under 30 seconds with one crazily intense kiss and sometimes that made her very, very mad. How dare Smallville have this power over her?

It sure explained Whitesnake. When she'd given him that c.d. all those years ago she'd been curious about how this geeky farm-boy could bring out that side of her. But those kinds of kisses could make you do all kinds of crazy things, like let out an inadvertent sigh of pure delight, or drag a colleague into a storage closet or endanger her relationship with one of her best friends on the off chance those kisses could be the foundation of something even greater. Of all the secrets he had held tightly to his chest, this was the one that she realised she should have been trying to unravel.

Just occasionally, it would make her remember another man who had kissed her. This man flew around the city emblazoned in primary colours but she suspected he had once appeared in an alleyway clad in green. He'd never talked about it and she didn't want to sound like she threw herself at guys in costumes by asking him. But really, how many men could spin her head like that in Metropolis? It was bad enough there were two.

So could it really be held against her if she got a little caught up in it all again? Okay, she didn't need to press herself against him, or snake her arms around his neck. But then he didn't need to pull her even tighter to him or run his fingers along the very edge of her jaw. He certainly shouldn't have sketched the lightest of touches over her collarbone and deepened their kiss still further.

Maybe she shouldn't have let a low moan start in the back of her throat either because that made it seem like she was okay with it. She was most definitely not okay with it. She just couldn't find the breath right now to tell him to take his lips and all his other parts and hit the road.

Even worse was that he was the one who managed to get his head together first and step back. As soon as he moved away she felt herself begin to lean forward again, trying to bring that warmth back. She checked herself in time, though stable doors and horses sprang to mind.

"Wait…just wait…" he looked pretty flustered himself, which was a little bit satisfying. Things had never been entirely one-sided after all. He might make her crazy but she could make him all kinds of crazy right back. "Lois, you're not…this isn't what you really want, is it?" He was trying to be a gentleman of course. He hadn't been kissing her much like one a minute ago. "Is it?" Then she could see past her own fog of lust and understood the look on his face. It was anguish. He wanted her to want this, very badly but he was scared that it was her grief and confusion talking.

Perhaps it was. In the midst of all this doubt maybe she had reached out for something she was sure she could still rely on, the toe-curling properties of Clark Kent's lips. Superman had been right about Smallville, he still cared about her, more than as friends, more than as exes. She hid her mouth with her hand, as if that might conceal the evidence of their actions. She hadn't realised. She had been so dumb.

"I…I…"

"Lois?"

"I…" she could feel tears welling up in her eyes now. She wanted to take the look of hurt from his face but she didn't want to lie to him either. She didn't know what she felt. She didn't know what the right answer was. He shook his head and took hold of her hand gently.

"It's okay. I understand."

"I didn't mean to…"

"Lois, I get it. Forget about it okay? It doesn't have to mean anything." He smiled slightly; as if he could reassure her he was fine with the whole thing. But she knew he was lying. Now it seemed so apparent. She'd decided to ignore all his lies for so long. She'd thought that was part of the deal but was it because it was easier to live the lie than face the reality? How long had he felt this way?

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He nodded.

"It's okay. Look, I should go talk to Terry. I don't think we should try and carry on with dinner anymore." A sharp spike of shame shot through her. She had set up this whole evening and now Terry was humiliated and Clark was in pain. Clark seemed able to read her thoughts. "Don't blame yourself for this Lois, you're not…you weren't to know."

"To know what?"

"How jealous she is of you."

"Me?" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I broke up with her because of you. And she knows it." Lois tried to say something but she felt the words die in her mouth. "She really likes you though but I guess tonight she…she…anyway, I'll go talk to her. Wait here, okay?" She nodded dumbly and watched as he walked through the doors and back into the main restaurant. Through the porthole window she could see him approach the table where Terry was waiting. Had that really been the truth? Had he dumped Terry because he cared about her? If he liked her then and he liked her now, did that mean he had never stopped, all this time later?

Terry had been the proof that he had got over her, that he had moved on. Now it was clear that he hadn't. But one kiss outside the men's room, however intense, didn't mean she hadn't moved on either. She laughed bitterly. After all, she had that fake boyfriend. And a flying alien who romanced her in a half-hearted fashion on rooftops.

That was all beside the point, she had definitely moved on. That night in the hospital she had drawn a line under the whole fiasco that was her and Clark. She might have had slip-ups occasionally, like trying to take a cab all the way out to the farm or making out with the guy when she was supposed to be fixing him up with someone, but these were the exceptions that proved the rule.

She was in love with Superman, ergo she couldn't be in love with Clark Kent.

The man she was most definitely not in love with was now listening to the woman he didn't seem to be in love with as she rather animatedly acted out what she'd like to do to him. Love didn't seem to play a part. The conversation reached an abrupt conclusion when she chucked the contents of her glass in his face and stormed off. Once the coast was clear, Lois went over to the table where Clark was drying his face with a napkin.

"I'm sorry."

"What can I say, women adore me." He smiled faintly as he dabbed at his tie.

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her you had heard me talking about how much I missed her and had taken that to mean I wanted to get back together with her. Since I'm so notoriously hopeless about going after what I want, you decided to take matters into your hands. A little over-zealous but your heart was in the right place. But though I care about her a great deal, I think she deserves someone who can make a long-term commitment to her and I'm not that guy."

"You tried to make me sound like less of an inconsiderate idiot, why?"

"Terry and I are never going to be friends but you two were, so it's worth trying to preserve that." Lois wasn't convinced that she could rescue any kind of relationship with Terry but it was just like Smallville to try. This was a man who thought friendships with evil billionaires were worth salvaging. He finished dabbing his clothes and looked over at her. "I know you're upset right now but I think we need to talk about this. I understand if this isn't what you want but we need to be clear with each other. I don't want to cause you any more hurt." Lois almost laughed. The man was sitting there, wearing a drink she should have been doused in after she had launched herself at him and he was worried about _her_ feelings.

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Let's go to my place and we can talk." Right now the idea of moving closer to the bed she could eventually crawl into was very appealing. As soon as they'd finished talking she could pull the covers over her head and try to block out the world. First she needed to give Clark some kind of answers. She had done enough damage tonight.

"If you're sure." She nodded and they collected their coats before leaving for her apartment. The walk over there was in almost complete silence. Whilst the journey to the restaurant had seemed to soothe her jangling nerves, the return trip meant reliving those heated moments in Clark's arms. She hadn't realised how much she had missed his kiss, his touch, until that moment. She'd remembered being with Smallville had been intense but she hadn't quite remembered it all. Though she'd been out with other men since she knew now that none had managed to move her in the same way. Had any of them managed to make her smile like he could, or read her as well? Had any of them been able to make her _feel_ so much?

Her heart might have broken that night in the hospital room but she had felt more intensely then and before then she had with any other man. Even Ollie, for all his importance to her, for all that she had been madly in love with him, even he had never reached her like Clark had.

There was only one other close runner. One other man who could unravel her with one word or look.

They negotiated their way inside her place with little conversation and once they were both sitting on her couch, a safe distance between them, Lois was lost as to where to start.

"Lois, since Maurie got sick, I haven't…you've been so unhappy." She looked round, surprised at how he had begun and shocked to hear her mental state described that way. But he was right. She'd been telling herself that she'd managed her grief over losing Maurie well. She hadn't curled up in a ball in bed or thrown her computer at the wall. She'd kept control. But that didn't mean she had erased the pain, she had just tried to stamp down on it, as much as for her own sake as for Maurie's. "And I've wanted so much to be there for you more than I can be as your friend. But I told myself it wasn't the right time; that I was being selfish." He stood up suddenly and walked towards her French windows, studying the skyline intently. "I have been selfish. But I let fear make my decisions for me and I can't do that, not when it hurts you."

"You haven't hurt me Smallville," she said.

"I have. I hate myself for it." He said simply, his voice without a shred of self-pity, as if this was a plain fact.

"No, no, Clark, you're always…"

He cut in, "You might not realise I'm doing it but I am. I hurt you by keeping the truth from you." She breathed in sharply, wondering if he was about to tell her what was in those boxes. "I know how much you're dealing with right now, so I'm not asking you to give me any kind of answer, or make some kind of choice. Unless you just want to make a choice and get as far away from me as possible and…" Lois walked up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to look at her and she smiled at him.

"Clark, relax, okay. This is me. We should be better as this, we did it once before remember?" Some of the tension eased out of his stance and he nodded slightly. "My head's not screwed on straight right now; I guess that's clear enough. But I do know you are one of the best people I know. Whatever happens, that won't change." He didn't look convinced. "Seriously, my first impressions are rarely wrong, and I had a handle on you from the first time we met. You know what I thought? Clark Kent doesn't know how to dress appropriately for the weather. I haven't seen anything to change my mind yet." She was rewarded by the sight of his lips lifting into a small smile.

"I don't feel the cold, that's all."

"Clark you could go out in a blizzard in your boxers and wonder if you're overdressed."

"Hmph."

"Anyway, I don't think you need to worry that I'm going to bail on you just because you have something big to say. You know you can tell me anything." He brushed the hair from her face with a pained expression.

"I wish I hadn't made the decisions I did."

"It's not too late," she said, wondering if she really meant the way it sounded. Was she really telling him she was prepared to give them another shot? She didn't qualify her statement though. Instead she let it hang in the air. The tension around his eyes seemed to increase as he considered her words.

"Isn't it?"

She shook her head minutely, her whole body feeling leaden as Clark moved closer to her. She felt no desire to stop him, no urge to remind him they had agreed nothing. Instead she let him place the most tentative of gentle kisses on her lips. As he moved away to judge her response she opened her eyes slowly and looked straight back into his eyes.

It was funny, she thought, how easy it was to forget what incredible eyes he had. Maybe it had been easier to push it all aside after she had been kidnapped. Forget the fun they had together, how much she had laughed in his company. Or how easy it felt to be intimate with him, to lean into his arms or let him touch her. She had been scared that their friendship would mean they were caught in some no man's land between friends and lovers, not enough mystery or passion. But it had made it better.

She hadn't wanted to remember these things because that would mean they had screwed up an opportunity of a lifetime. That she had lost a man who could change the whole course of her life. As this thought occurred to her she felt a sharp twist inside her chest, as if the longing and loss had combined to clench her heart against her ribs. She kissed him, a need to be closer to him compelling her to act, regardless of the questions. As her hands moved over his shoulders and he threaded his fingers through her hair she let go of the doubts and hesitations.

Picking this dress, kissing him in the restaurant, inviting him back to her apartment, it was clear to her now that these were not accidents. She had been making instinctual decisions all evening, one leading inexorably to the next. All she had to do was stop thinking, and let them take her wherever they wanted her to go next.


	20. Chapter 20

Lois first sensation on waking was that she felt deliciously warm and relaxed. It was blissful. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this good first thing in the morning. Once this idea had time to percolate, she began to experience the first stirrings of panic.

Opening her eyes and yanking back the blanket covering her she realised she was wearing significantly less than she had been last night. She looked around her and saw a disturbed bed on what was usually the undisturbed side, several items of her clothing carefully folded over the back of her chair and no Clark Kent. Focusing her eyes on what she _was_ wearing, she noticed she was in her favourite nightwear, an extra-large tee the General had bestowed on her from the one time they'd actually made it to Disneyland like he'd promised. Smallville had helped her into that as she'd fallen asleep. She was wearing, some, if not all of the underwear she'd been wearing last night. She knew she'd been responsible for removing that at least.

There were sounds of movement coming from outside her bedroom. That had to be Clark. How was she going to face him after what had happened last night? She clutched her covers tightly around her as if it offered some protection against the memories.

Things had got seriously out of hand last night. She hadn't planned for things to happen that way, though perhaps it had been naïve to presume that they wouldn't. She had been stewing in a nasty mix of emotions for days if not weeks and there was bound to be an inevitable fall-out to that. She just hadn't imagined it would lead to throwing herself into Clark's arms.

Right now, things were so mixed up between them and rather than taking it slow and trying to work out how she felt about him, she'd created even greater intimacy between them, the kind that wasn't so easily clawed back. But she did have to claw it back. She had to go out there, set the record straight, let Smallville know that it had been a one-off and wasn't about to become the norm. She wasn't that kind of girl and they weren't in that kind of relationship anymore. Who was to say they even would be in the future?

Hoping she could get dressed before he reappeared in her room, she slipped out of bed and yanked some items out of her wardrobe so she could hastily assemble an outfit. The kind of outfit that said, 'you'd better not look at me differently this morning'. She looked over her choices in her mirror and realised she had dressed for a job interview as an actuary. Thrown into a panic as she heard a gentle knocking on the door she grabbed some jeans and a sweatshirt instead.

"Lois? Are you awake?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Okay. How are you feeling?"

"Uh, good?"

"Okay." There was a pause, possibly as he considered whether that was a note of hysteria in her voice. "Well, when you're ready, I have breakfast." He moved away from the door. Lois assessed her fresh clothing choices and decided this was a little better. It looked casual and said, 'last night? Pshaw, what's all the fuss about anyway!'.

The big deal was she had shown Clark a side of herself she had never even shown him when they'd been dating, and now she'd put all these fresh, new emotional complications into the mix. Because she had finally let go after what felt like weeks of unrelenting tension? Because it felt natural and right and safe? When had those been good reasons to do anything.

She frowned at her expression in the mirror. The truth was she looked better than she had in weeks. Some of her normal colour had been returned to her cheeks and the grey shadows under her eyes had receded a little. And part from some crucial items of clothing, one other thing had been missing when she'd woken up. No headache. Normally after the events of last night she'd be dealing with an insistent throbbing in her brain but instead she was clear-eyed and clear-headed. If she didn't know what a total disaster this all was, she would have said it had done her some good.

Trying to fix her face into an appropriately bland expression, she pulled the door open and stepped outside. Damage limitation was her objective. She had to try and protect the few shreds of dignity she had left as well as steer their friendship back onto its normal, safe course.

Clark was moving around the kitchen with a dish towel over one shoulder and his back to her. Unfortunately Clark's rather fetching back was one of his strengths. Along with his front and both side views. This was going to be a lot harder than she'd thought. She hadn't even looked into his eyes yet and he'd really done a number on her with those eyes last night. It seemed like she was as susceptible to a repertoire of soulful expressions and washboard abs as any mooning fangirl. This was exactly what she had always resented, Smallville's ability to turn her into a crazy-ass _girl_.

"Ready for food?"

"Oh. Yeah, sounds good." He took the pan he was using off the hob and picked up a serving spoon. Clark knew her kitchen inside out since he was the only one who ever used it. Moving with practised ease he placed two poached eggs on top of a slice of ham and an English muffin. To finish, he drizzled sauce over both plates and then slid them onto the breakfast bar in between them. He looked up at her, a beaming smile on his face.

Eggs Benedict. She loved eggs Benedict. The smile on his face faltered as he saw her reaction.

"You don't like it?"

"I…I love it! This is perfect." She tried to smile broadly and sat down on the stool. Clark passed her cutlery and she attached the meal with gusto. If she was eating, she couldn't talk. He seemed to relax and sat opposite her, his own fork idling on the edge of his plate.

"You know, I was thinking we could spend some time today. I have to be at work later but I thought maybe this evening…if you're busy I understand. But a real dinner maybe this time. We didn't actually eat a lot last night," an awkward laugh escaped him. "So…" Lois swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on the runny yolk pooling around the muffin. Just how she liked it. He knew so much about her, why was the knowledge he'd gained last night so beyond the pale?

Her forced appetite failed her as soon as she looked up and saw him realise they were not going to be eating dinner later that night. She had to put an end to this.

"Clark, we can't." As he registered the words, a flash of something painful appeared in his eyes and then faded. He crossed his arms over his chest and said something she hadn't expected.

"If this is about last night then you're wrong."

"Wrong about what?"

"You're scared."

"What makes you think that?" She snapped. Lois Lane wasn't scared of anything. Last night had been an aberration, a blip, it was her reason talking now, not fear. "Clark, we don't have that kind of relationship, not the one we had last night. We're friends but not friends like that. We don't do that with each other. I made a…"

"Don't say it was a mistake, don't say that," he said emphatically.

"It wasn't us, that wasn't me, okay? I'm sorry. Things just got so intense last night, I leapt like ten steps forward when we should have been holding back." He stared directly at her, his lips pressed into a firm line. She hadn't hoped he would just accept her decision blithely but she was taken aback by his stubbornness. "Smallville, you have to admit that things are a total mess right now. _I'm_ a total mess, that's horribly obvious. We can't just start up some love affair because I had a bad case of romance reflux and we hooked up outside the men's room!"

"I just want to be there for you, why won't you let me in?"

"Because you screwed up last time!" She blurted the words out without thinking. They were an effective way to close down the conversation but it had been unfair to bring them up. It was also an ugly reminder that she was also not as over things as she had made out. The cover they had pulled over their first relationship had now been blown right off. The wounded expression on his face took her right back to the aftermath of their break-up and she had never wanted to be back there again.

"I can't change your mind, can I?"

"No." He shook his head as he walked out of the kitchen and grabbed his jacket off the back of the sofa.

"I'm not going to stop trying. I thought it was better to give up on us because I couldn't give you what you wanted. But I was an idiot."

"Well nothing has changed on that front," she snapped, "and nothing else has changed either. I was wrong last night, we didn't work back then, I don't see why we'd work out now."

"Last night you said it wasn't too late."

"Last night was a mistake! I've said it, are you happy now?"

"You're wrong." He seemed about to say more but then walked over to her, kissed her on her forehead and left without saying another word. Her fragile self-control lasted about thirty seconds after he closed the door before she broke down into tears.

Chloe was watching her carefully. Lois knew the tone of her phone call and her behaviour since they'd met outside the coffee shop hadn't exactly reassured her that she was A-OK. She would have liked to appear calm and collected, it just right now that her whole life was slipping out of her grasp.

"I never asked you about your green dress? Did it have the intended effect?" Chloe summoned up a small smile.

"Kind of."

"Huh." Lois fell back into silence, unable to concentrate on maintaining the conversation. Her thoughts kept on bouncing back to last night and Clark's face earlier. He had been so upset. Why couldn't he understand that it had been a mistake?

"You know cuz, you're supposed to get the jitters after drinking the coffee, not before you've even tasted a drop." Chloe nodded at the untouched mug in front of her cousin and the sugar sachet she was shaking in her hand. Lois clasped her hands together and sighed.

"Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind."

"Hence the call right? Why don't you let me know what's going on." Lois felt a prickly heat creep up her neck.

"It's a little embarrassing."

"Lois, you're never embarrassed," Chloe laughed. "It's one your greatest assets."

"Let's just say I revealed a little bit more of myself last night then I was intending." She went quiet and morosely stirred her drink.

"Okay. You flashed a doorman, you got a rip in your pants, what? Help me out a bit here." Lois looked round to check there was no one they knew nearby.

"I may have…I might have…" She winced as she imagined what Chloe's reaction was going to be. She had the feeling her cousin wasn't going to necessarily understand why last night was the unmitigated disaster it really was. But apart from Clark, Chloe best understood what was going on in her life, so would appreciate why she'd been so reckless. "I did something stupid with Clark." Chloe's eyebrows shot up but she said nothing. "It's all because I set up this dinner with Terry."

"His ex?" Chloe said, her voice fairly level but the faint note of disbelief there.

"I know, I know, total madness. I thought I was…" she squirmed in her seat. "I've been having these…feelings around Clark lately. I thought if I could get him back together with Terry that they would go away. It's always easier between us when we're not single." Chloe nodded but said nothing. "Okay, so I didn't exactly tell Smallville Terry was going to be there and I didn't really let Terry know that Smallville wasn't actually wanting to get back with her but I thought those kinks could be ironed out." Chloe waited for her to continue. "Fine, it was idiotic and mean to do that to them but I thought…I don't know."

"I thought you and Jake were…"

"I broke up with him." Lois made a face. "Turns out he was a jerk anyway. I didn't tell Clark because…I just didn't. And I couldn't tell you and not him, it would make it look like I had a reason I didn't want to tell him."

"Which you didn't."

"No, I had no reason. I mean, yeah, there were a few of these moments and yeah when things were going wrong with Jake I might have thought that Clark understood me far better than that idiot. And maybe Clark has really been there for me these last few months but none of that was a reason," she concluded rather weakly. "There wasn't a reason exactly."

"So what happened at dinner?" Kindly moving the conversations on from her long list of non-reasons.

"It was a nightmare. Terry was really mad, justifiably. And she was all over Clark to try and annoy me."

"And did it work?"

"Yeah but that's true with anyone right, I mean no one likes to see their ex getting pawed at, it's weird."

"Right."

"So things kind of imploded and then I…" Lois let out a deep sigh, she didn't want to have to say this but she had to talk about it with someone. And Chloe would need to know why things were going to be inevitably weird between her and Clark. "I kissed him."

"Kissed him?" Chloe had the slightest of smiles on her face.

"That kind of thing happens all the time," Lois said, trying to justify herself. Chloe was looking at her like she'd just told her and Smallville were getting hitched. None of this was intentional. This was all just vestiges of past Lois and Clark. They couldn't get back together, it was too messy. "I mean we always had a bit of chemistry so it makes sense if sometimes it flares up again. That's just natural. Just, you know, urges, you sometimes want to act on."

"Urges."

"Yeah, he's a good-looking guy and we had some fun times together before it crashed and burned and so what if sometimes I get these little…"

"Urges?"

"Right. Urges. It doesn't mean anything."

"But something else happened." Lois bit her lip and opened some more sugar before sprinkling it onto a little pile on the table.

"Kind of. I might have said we should go back to my place to talk about it. You know, the urges incident. I swear I wasn't thinking what you think I was thinking."

"No?"

"If I was thinking that, it was way, way, way back at the back of my mind. Like sub-basement subconscious. I am a grown-up you know, I don't just drag guys back to my apartment so I can maul them."

"I know."

"But when we got back things got a little bit heated."

"I see." Lois could see Chloe was trying her very hardest to reman stony-faced.

"And then I just kind of…" Lois tried to find the right words for it. "It was like all this pressure had been building up in my mind and I just let go. And Clark was there, and he was being so sweet, so kind. Also hot. And I just threw myself into his arms really and…it was bad."

"It was bad?" Chloe frowned.

"Yeah, it was a bad idea. I've never really done that with a guy before." This time Chloe looked really confused.

"Uhhh, what do you mean?"

"I mean acted like that. I just unravelled in front of him. I cried for like three hours straight."

"Cried?"

"Yeah, like I said, I totally lost it. It all seemed to come flooding out. Maurie and all this stuff with Superman and Weathers and Lucy. I even talked about my Mom. I was awful." The memory of it made her blush with shame.

"Hold on Lois, are you saying you didn't sleep together?"

"No, we did, I fell asleep in his arms and it was kind of amazing but…oh." Lois stared at Chloe in realisation. "You thought I meant…"

"Yes."

"And when I said…"

"Yes."

"Oh. Right. No, we didn't. Where'd you get that idea from?" Chloe threw up her hands.

"Then I'm totally confused, what have you been talking about?"

"Didn't you hear the part where I broke down in his arms and basically revisited every bad feeling or thought I'd ever had?"

"Yeah but…"

"No buts Chlo, this is me, okay? This is Lois Lane you're talking to. I do not lose it. I don't weep on some guy's shoulder because I have parental abandonment issues. Clark and I…we don't do that. Maybe a few sniffles and a tissue and let's get some drinks in but I don't talk to him about getting angry with my Mom and Maurie when they got sick or tell him that I think I'll never be a mother or.." Chloe took hold of her hand and squeezed it hard.

"Hey, take it easy. I'm here."

"I know," Lois took a deep breath and tried to summon back the tears. "Sorry."

"You don't need to apologise for anything," Chloe said. "You've been having a tough time. It's okay to lose it sometimes."

"No, it's not," Lois shook her head. Chloe was never going to understand this. However cynical, Chloe had always been the more open and trusting of the two of them. Her mom had disappeared from her life when she was young too but she didn't seem to have the same wariness around intimacy that Lois did. Or perhaps she had just dealt with it better. But Lois had very few genuine relationships in her life; she couldn't afford to drive people away by exposing her deepest, darkest feelings. Lucy was constantly M.I.A., the General didn't know how to have a real conversation with her, and now Maurie was dead. Oliver, Chloe and Clark were the people who underpinned her life. They kept her together. But if Smallville saw who she really was, how messed up she truly was, he might not want anything to do with her.

He might go.

"Lois, you care about each other. It's obvious that you're not over him. Maybe you should give this another chance?"

"Part of me wants to," she said in a quiet voice. "But there's just…too much."

"Like what?"

"Like Superman. I'm in love with him Chloe, how can I be with Clark if I'm in love with another guy?" Chloe seemed to take this information badly, she looked down at her hands and the lines around her eyes tightened. "I know I've never said it out loud Chlo but I'm guessing it's not news to anyone. Seems like the whole world knew I was infatuated with the guy but me."

"I shouldn't have let this happen." Lois was confused now, where was the big sister act coming from, her cousin was acting as if she could have prevented the skewed relationship she'd cultivated with Superman. She was supposed to be looking out for Chlo, not the other way round. That was the way they worked. Unless she had an input into the other side of the equation. She knew Oliver knew Superman, _had_ to know Superman. Could Chloe also have contact with him through her work?

"What, you were going to chaperone me every time I met the guy? Come on, I'm a big girl now, you can't protect me from making my own mistakes. Besides, you have enough on your plate." She decided to dangle the possibility of a Superman connection out there, just in case she reacted. "You know, doing all that IT consultancy for Oliver. Or whoever."

Chloe shook her head, clearly still distressed. "I never thought it would work out like this, with you trapped between Clark Kent and Superman. It all seems so absurd."

Well, she'd put it out there, no response. "Welcome to the man-made disaster that is my love life. It seems so obvious now in retrospect. Clark and I broke up and I throw myself into this thing with Superman. Who's perfect and a hero and totally unattainable. Emotionally unavailable men, yet again."

"Clark isn't emotionally unavailable Lois."

"No, he's just physically unavailable. After all, Superman said…he sa…" Lois stopped. She looked over at Chloe's expectant face. When she had said 'Smallville' the last time they'd spoken, he had replied with a comment about Clark. But how did he know that that was her nickname for him? She'd never spoken about him in front of Superman, she was sure of it. It had always been too awkward. That was what had bothered her about the conversation. That he had known Clark meant Smallville. How could he?

The boxes would tell her, she was sure. But she already knew what they would tell her. All the facts were there: he was always there when he was needed and never there when you looked around. He had a nose for trouble and an ability to put himself in the thick of it that rivalled her own. There was no act of kindness too small or too large.

"Lois? Are you okay? Lois?"

"I just…you know, I have some stuff I really need to go and do." She stood up abruptly knocking the table and her neglected coffee. "I'll call you yeah?"

There was only one possible solution to all those niggling little questions. The fragments that she had never been able to, or never wanted to, piece together. And now it seemed ludicrous that she hadn't considered it. No matter how unlikely, the simplest explanation was usually the right one. What could be a simpler answer than this?

"Lo, hey, where are you going? You look ill, are you feeling alright?"

"I just need to go sort through some old papers in my car."

"Your car?"

Ever since she had woken up that morning, she'd been agonised by the idea she had opened her heart too far, and it hadn't been her secrets she should have been focussing on. She'd thought it had been something big, a burden he felt he couldn't share with her, but it had been something she couldn't have imagined. It went all the way back to Smallville, that nowhere town that punched above its weight. And it wasn't even about Clark Kent at all.

Now she realised what he had been lying to her about, what they had all been lying to her about, since the very start. Clark knew Superman.


	21. Chapter 21

THE MAN YOU THINK YOU KNOW

By Lois Lane

There are the lives we lead, and then there are the secret lives we keep wrapped up inside us. Let me introduce you to one that is hidden inside a man you think you all know. You've probably never met him but you know every angle of his face and the rise and fall of his voice. He gives no outward clue of his secret existence, though there have always been voices speculating about another life lived away from the spotlight.

They're missing the point.

His secret is this: the other life is one you might be shocked by for its ordinariness. He rises when his young children wake him. He prepares their breakfast for him to allow his wife a few extra moments of peace. He's a solicitous husband, a loving parent. Once he's helped them dress and get ready for their day, he can leave for his own job.

His father is a prominent scientist, an influential figure in society. But this man doesn't pursue a life in the public eye, though he too is dedicated to public service. He's a teacher. You shouldn't be surprised to hear that his pupils respect him and he's as fond of his high-flying students as those who struggle to keep up. The community he lives in value this quiet, thoughtful man, recognising how special individuals such as these are.

But he's not perfect. In his darkest moments doesn't he chafe at the life he leads, no matter how much pleasure it brings him? The only son of a famous man, the presumption always was that he would lead as dazzling a life as his father. It was his destiny surely. Though maybe it was better this way because he can't imagine carrying the responsibility, shouldering all that expectation.

Dreams of greater glory don't bother him often but are passing clouds, along with the other all too human emotions each of us is plagued by.

So he's the kind of man who can change the course of your life in gentle, subtle ways. He's the kind of man whose voice you listen to because he lives wisely and well. So what? There's no reason people like this can't be found on Krypton, just like they can be on Earth.

This secret life is the one Superman could have led if his own planet hadn't been erased from the sky. It is the shadow of his own existence. There are those who would have you believe that Superman's secrets range anywhere from the gutter to the divine. If not a god, then a monster. If not our savoir, then a threat. But the only secret that truly matters is the one he keeps locked inside his own heart, the life he could have lead had he been only ever Kal-El. In my years of reporting his actions, I have often been blind to the truth of Superman. It's easy to be swept away by the rhetoric, to believe that he's heaven-sent, to pray for him to deliver you from evil. But now when people are ready to turn his life of sacrifice into a theological battlefield, I see more clearly the other, secret self he conceals.

Though I doubt he would ever admit it, some part of him yearns for that other life, one that he can never have when he spends every day fighting to protect our futures. To deify this decent man is to make a mockery of the difficult choices he has made and continues to make. To ignore the very human honour and strength he displays every day also does us a disservice. For he reflects the best of us; what we could be if we had been beset by the same chain of tragic events, what we can be when life calls on us to step up and make the hard choices.

A quirk of fate has given the universe Superman the hero rather than Kal-El the teacher. But for the sake of the man trapped in the costume we remake for him every day, don't forget that other man and his ordinary life.

"I'm getting a lot of calls about it Lane, some people threatening to drop their subscription, saying Frank Charter is a man of principle, saying this is a genuine movement," Perry cut in as she scanned the copy again. Lois shrugged. It didn't read exactly how she wanted to, none of her most heartfelt articles ever did. Plus, she hadn't been able to run it past Clark, recent discoveries had made the idea impossible. "That's good Lois, you want to wake up the hornet's nest every once in a while." He leaned back in his chair, a pleased expression on his face. But when she didn't seem to mirror his satisfaction, he sighed. "But you're not too happy 'bout it now. You asked for this piece remember. I recall you getting pretty heated about it. Called me a coward? Told me I was losing it now I'm in the big chair." She looked up from the page and tried to appear apologetic.

"Sorry chief, you know I play dirty when I get steamed up."

"Don't I know it," he huffed. "But you're missing my point. You got what you wanted, why aren't you downstairs crowing at another Lane triumph?"

There was a reason she wasn't happy about it. The article had a companion piece, also entitled THE MAN YOU THINK YOU KNOW. It wasn't the kind of work that would ever roll off the printers. It was one she'd committed to her heart, every line a painful realisation of the lies she had swallowed. The contents of box twelve had simply backed up her initial findings, in particular the interview between MG and ES.

ES: They don't let reporters in here. What makes you so special?

MG: I'm not the special one Eric, that's you.

ES: You think flattery will get you anywhere? Anyway, you know I'm nothing special. If I was, do you think I'd be stuck in this hole with these idiots?

MG: I heard you used to be pretty strong. Pretty fast too. They called you Super-Boy. But I guess you're right, if you were something out of the ordinary you wouldn't be locked up in here. Power alone doesn't make you strong. It's the knowledge of how to use it.

ES: You think I'm stupid, is that it?

MG: Probably, you're not getting out of here any time soon are you?

ES: Shows what you know. I've got wheels within wheels my friend.

MG: Sure you do.

ES: Like you'd know anyway.

MG: I heard about the last time you had a plan to get out of here. You didn't get very far.

ES: I didn't have anything to do with that guy dying.

MG: How could you? Would have taken someone really strong to do that.

ES: Right. And I haven't got the juice anymore.

MG: Right.

ES: I could get it again though.

MG: Sure kid, sure.

ES: I could if I wanted. I don't want it though, I've got other plans, you know. But I could.

MG: Oh yeah, how's that then?

ES: You think I'm going to tell you that? That's my ticket out of here.

MG: But I think I already know Eric.

ES: As if.

MG: It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Look around you kid, this whole place is full of guys just like you. You all have one special thing in common. One man.

ES: What do you know about it?

MG: Anything goes down in Smallville and there's one big constant, Clark Kent.

ES: None of you get it, that's what creases me up every time! It's like everyone is walking around with their fingers in their ears, just so they can't hear the truth. This isn't about Clark Kent, he's a nothing, a cover, a diversion. This is about Superman! That's the name that's getting me out of here and into the sweet life.

It was the name that had got him into a coffin. But it looked like Eric had traded his secret about how he had been able to take Superman's powers with someone able to pull the strings at Belle Reeve. Someone at Belle Reeve had also given Maurie unparalleled levels of access.

Maurie had approached the medical director without much hope of success but a week after being firmly told where to put his press card, he had received the go-ahead. He'd spoken to over a dozen patients, whose problems seemed to range from psychosis to unspecified 'augmented abilities'. With that kind of free range, Maurie could have turned in a fantastic series on some of the most troubling inmates and patients in the country. A reporter's dream. But instead he'd focussed on one man throughout the conversations. It was all about Clark Kent. And whenever Maurie mentioned Clark, the name Superman came up. They came as a pair.

Maurie had eventually ended his interviews at the facility. From his notes it seemed like he had become nervous about the intentions of the people who had signed off his interviews. He'd dug around only to find the fingerprints of the government. Certain individuals who had overseen the reorganisation of Belle Reeve following Tess Mercer's indictment seemed like they hadn't stepped back. One man in particular, Senator Jeremiah Shepherd. The discovery of that name had made Maurie change tack entirely. He'd returned to investigating paper archives. Then had come that chat with LL, about why Clark's lies went unquestioned.

She'd said back then that it had been part of the deal. Loving, _liking_, Smallville, meant learning to live with the half-truths. Because as much as her instinct was always to uncover the truth, she knew from being the General's daughter that some truths were better kept concealed.

There was an altogether more troubling explanation though. If she'd rejected him because she couldn't handle the thought of him knowing all sides of her, perhaps she'd never wanted to know what he was hiding because it would mean she would have to let him know what she kept back. If he lied to her, she could be less than honest with him. And that was an arrangement she was happy to live with.

The fact she had rushed home to find out what was in box twelve only led credence to this theory. Her dirty little secrets were out on the open so his had to be too. The playing field had to be levelled. Except his secret was much bigger than she had anticipated. It also hurt a lot more than she cared to admit.

Hence the story behind the story that had seen print. Rationally he knew that Superman and his role was bigger than her and her hurt feelings but still she felt betrayed.

She had embarrassed herself so much over the years, not realising that the two of them knew each other. It did explain why both men had always been so reluctant to mention the other though. They were conscious of the awkward position they were placing in her and were trying to limit the damage. The fact they had been aware they had been hurting her didn't do much to make her feel any better.

Every half hour she would list all the good reasons why they hadn't been able to tell her but every minute she would remember a painful moment when she had been lied to or made a fool of herself. Like the times she had swallowed some ridiculous explanation as to why the barn door had fallen out of the sky. But worse was how much she must have hurt Clark after she had broken up with him by talking about Superman non-stop, by chasing him all over the world, by making it so obvious to everyone with ears and eyes how she felt about the superhero. Now she knew Clark hadn't stopped caring about her and that he actually knew Kal-El, it made everything so much worse. It would have seemed like she was rubbing his face in it, every day. And perhaps a part of her had been. Had she wanted to make him jealous, to punish him for letting her down? She didn't know who was coming out of this looking worse. Herself or them. At least they had some kind of noble intentions behind these games and deceptions. She had only been protecting her own battered heart.

The others knew, she was sure of it. In her most paranoid moments she believed they all laughed at her gullibility. But she had to trust that they found no humour in it. Maybe there were good reasons why Chloe knew or Oliver knew; professional superhero-ing reasons. But she was sure Lana had to know as well. There had always been some big barrier between her and Clark, preventing him from acting on his feelings and then suddenly it had seemed like that reason was gone and they'd begun playing house together. What else could explain it? Had Lex known? Lionel? Jimmy maybe?

Superman's connection to Clark dated back years of course. That would have been clear enough from box twelve, if nothing else. But Lois was unclear on how far back it truly went. Maurie hadn't found much strange in Clark's life until his late teens. Unless you counted an unusual adoption. But however it had come about, Superman was connected to Clark in some important way, and Chloe and then Oliver had learnt about it. This was the secret that Martha and Jonathan had tried to keep from everyone, especially the Luthors.

It meant that the meteor showers, the alien sightings, the space-ships, they all _did_ have something to do with Superman. Smallville was a huge part of his life before the Blur. What she hadn't got at first was why she had been so quick to dismiss that when Chloe had practically thrown that idea at her the other week. Could this be a result of the same mind-control device Superman had been talking about? How else could she have forgotten that those super-strong psychotic aliens had come round to the Kent Farm looking for 'Kal-El'? As soon as Superman had told her what his birth name had been, she should have made the connection. It was impossible that she hadn't, so it had to be down to that device, messing with her memories and not just her eyes.

Her gut reaction was anger. To be manipulated without her knowing at such a fundamental level enraged her. He was doing this to protect his other identity she knew and if a high price had to be paid to do that, then she was willing to pay it. She would make any sacrifice to protect him from exposure but. She wanted to be asked. There were probably other memories and facts that were being distorted in her brain. Because now she knew that her knowledge of Superman pre-dated the Blur even. Pre-dated that kiss in the alley. He had been in her life when she was in Smallville, how much in her life she didn't know. Had he been a figure she couldn't glimpse, just beyond the corner of her eye? Or had he been someone she had seen and known? Had she spoken to him? He'd told her that they had met but he didn't specify if that was recently or not.

This was another extremely painful idea. That they could have had met all those years ago and yet she had no clue. The whole thing was so one-sided! She'd been depressed after Maurie's funeral at the idea that she was nothing to Superman but a pleasant means to do something essential for his public perception. They had no future. But now it seemed they had something other than a future, they had a past. And one she had no idea about. For all she knew she'd hooked up with the guy. It was horrifying. She had already racked her brains for the memory of a man who she might have met who could conceivably be Superman. Presumably she would have been attracted to him back then, even without his powers, even without the cape?

But then how long had it taken her to see Clark? The little battles between them had been merely amusing skirmishes. It wasn't until he'd come to the Planet that they had turned into something more. It was the shirt and tie that had done it. Clark Kent had to be in his work costume before she'd been able to see him for what he was. Maybe Superman had to be in his suit before she would look at him twice. Was she in love with Superman and not Kal-El?

It had been that crushing doubt that had added fuel to the story she'd written. This was her way of proving to herself that she saw past the red and blue. She could see the man behind that, and that was who she was in love with. She had to believe she knew who Superman really was, even if she couldn't remember his other face. But despite what she had written and for all that she believed it, there was still the piece she had written in her head. It read:

There was the man you thought you knew, and then there is the secret life he kept wrapped up inside himself. You've probably met him but although you know every angle of his face and the rise and fall of his voice, you didn't recognise him. He has given you countless clues of his secret existence and there have always been voices speculating about another life but you've ignored them.

After all, they were missing the point.

Because your secret is this: though you champion the truth, you were happier when you believed his lies.


	22. Chapter 22

BARON BEE: Hello all! I thought I would just send my thanks out now for all the kind reviews you've been sending my way, and the reminders you want some good Clois action as well, not just dubious brain science. And if I waited until the end of the whole saga, uhhhh, you might have had to wait a while. I also wanted to give you some kind of heads up that there's still a bit of a way to go, since some of you have wondered how long I'm going to keep torturing poor Lois for. We're so over half way though, maybe two-thirds! Whoop, whoop!

* * *

Lois' thoughts were stuck in a tortuous cycle for most of the morning, with her meeting with Perry and conversations with co-workers passing in a daze. Clark was thankfully out on a story and she hoped it would keep him away from his desk all day. Right now, the idea of seeing him turned her stomach and made her palms sweat. She felt incredibly guilty about reading box twelve. Kal-El might have given her permission to look into his life, but Clark hadn't. She had chosen to spill her secrets to him but she had taken that choice away from him.

As she returned from grabbing something to eat, she stepped into the elevator with the rest of the lunch rush only to see Clark trapped in the corner, presumably returning from the basement. She managed avoid meeting his eyes and manoeuvred herself so she was in the opposite corner.

"Lois?" He said her name so tenderly, so sweetly that her painful thoughts seemed to weigh even heavier. She looked round at him and surprised herself by finding a small smile for him. It was automatic, just like the slight quickening of her pulse, and she couldn't seem to turn that reaction off, despite everything.

"Hey Smallville."

"Hi. I've been at the rally downtown." Lois' expression soured. Frank Charter was holding court and giving speeches today. Even leading his 'congregation' in a mass prayer. The man was shameless. The deaths he was responsible for, even assuming he hadn't murdered Eric Summers and the others, seemed to mean nothing to him. "I know. He talked about your piece." She raised an eyebrow. "He called it sacrilegious. He burned it."

"Good," she felt a small satisfaction at that. "I hope it made him sick." He seemed drained by that morning's events. Watching those misguided people engaged in an act of public worship of a man he knew must have been disturbing. Once again she wondered what their relationship was. Were they friends? Less than that? She found it difficult to imagine the two of them in a room together, it just seemed so unlikely. If they were close though, why would they both be pursuing her at the same time? Did they talk about her? Her skin crawled. No, they couldn't; it was unthinkable.

The elevator came to a halt and the car partly emptied out before filling up again. Clark tried to turn round slightly so he could face her but he was trapped by a man carrying a six-foot parcel, which he seemed to be resting on Clark's foot. "What did you think of it?" She called across the space. He stared into her eyes, his expression troubled. It was an awkward question but she desperately wanted to know. His opinion mattered. This also was a reaction she seemed unable to negate.

"Honestly?" She nodded. He sighed. "I should know better by now but still I forget."

"Forget what?"

"How you find some new way to surprise me almost every day." An awkward silence descended in the car.

Her breath caught in her chest. There he went again, acting as if these words were unassailable facts. As if the things he saw in her were obvious to everyone. But other people didn't look at her like he did. They didn't make her feel the way he did. They certainly couldn't confuse her as much.

She managed to splutter out, "I…is that good?" The elevator came to a stop again and he tried to move closer to her but was pushed back again by a new set of people. One of them, Sophie from accounts, seemed about to start up a conversation with Lois until she saw the expression on her face and then followed the direction of her gaze and saw Clark at the other end of it.

He appeared to be getting frustrated and eventually, muttering a lot of apologies and using his shoulders, he managed to squeeze his way over until he was jammed up right beside her. Unfortunately he was now standing closer to her than she thought was advisable. The rest of the elevator might not be able to hear their conversation as well now, but they'd be able to read plenty into their proximity. She didn't want to be the focus of office gossip yet again.

"I can't blame you for doubting me. I haven't treated you as well as I should have. I've been an asshole Lois," he said in a quiet voice.

She shrugged, wishing he would remove himself. The memory of several nights past was flooding back to her, and not just the post mortem she'd performed on her emotional history. More the moments that had led up to that. The rather hot and heavy moments. Lois hadn't been entirely honest with Chloe the other morning. Whilst they hadn't slept together, things had most definitely been heading in that direction. Though the morning after had been bad enough, if she'd gone with Plan A that would've been just as tricky to deal with. She'd been feeling pretty incredible with Clark before his affectionate caresses had flicked some meltdown switch in her brain and she'd totally lost it. When they'd been dating, she'd been the one to say they should go slow and steady because she'd wanted to get things right with him. But all that caution and self-control seemed to have been forgotten after the dinner date from hell.

The truth was, that even though she was ashamed and guilty and angry and confused and scared, if Clark touched her right now, even to pick some lint off her sweater, she was going to have trouble not pouncing on him despite the rest of the office being packed in there with them.

Wow. She really hated this guy sometimes.

"You really have no idea," she said as she wished fervently for some water to relieve her suddenly uncomfortably dry mouth.

"But I want to have the chance to make it up to you. Even if it takes me the rest of my life."

"Rest of your life?" She snapped. How dare he? More than ever he should realise that he was crossing the line. "That's not going to be too long if you don't back off Clark."

"I understand why you're scared, don't you think I understand?"

"Understand this: the other night was a mistake. We're friends. That. Is. It." Clark had the temerity to glare back at her.

"Don't lie to yourself."

"Ohhhh, tell me you didn't just bring up lying." The man was unbelievable. One minute he could have her melting and the next he could be the biggest hypocrite she had ever known. Did he not even remember that he had been lying to her every day for years? Didn't that bother him at all?

"I want to be honest with you. This is me being honest with you."

"Your honesty consists of me being yanked around on a chain," she whispered harshly.

"You were the one who kissed me in the restaurant! You invited me back to your place! You asked me to stay the night!" He kept his voice very low, despite his annoyance but she wasn't convinced no one would have caught his words.

"You said you would be there that night!" She hissed back at him. It needed no explaining what night she was referring to. They stared at each other in a stalemate for a moment before the bell went and the doors opened again.

Clark raised his voice then, "Everyone off please, the elevator's defective." He began herding the people out of the car and blocked the way for everyone trying to get on.

"Watch it Kent!"

"Hey, what are you doing!"

"Take the stairs please, this one's out of commission."

"Then why is Lois in there!" One woman protested.

"Yeah, just because you two want to have a domestic, doesn't mean…"

"Thanks for your co-operation," he smiled at them as he pressed the button to close the doors. They hadn't moved up more than a few metres before he pressed the stop button, halting the progress. He'd officially lost it.

"You've officially lost it," she told him.

"Maybe."

"You do know the whole office is going to be talking about us now!"

"The office is always talking about you anyway Lois, so that won't make any difference to you." That was a fair point but he wasn't allowed to make fair points, he was King of Unfair.

"Clark, I don't want to do this."

"I need you to listen to me Lois." She darted for the control panel but he stepped in front of her effortlessly. Feinting to her left, she reached out around his right side, only for Clark to grab hold of both her wrists with one large hand. She shook him off and smacked the wall with her hand.

"Now you act all domineering," she grumbled.

"I didn't know you were in trouble that night," he said, his face pained. She didn't care if she had hurt him by bringing this up again, he deserved all this, and more. "Please Lois." Those two words almost made her regret her anger. But no. This couldn't be undone.

"I know why you weren't there. Okay? I know it was because of Superman."

His face went pale and then she saw an almost visible weight seem to lift from his shoulders. His shoulders straightened and his eyes seemed brighter, sharper. It was as if Clark Kent was put to one side and a different man stood in his stead. This made it clear what kind of pressure Superman's secret placed on him. Perhaps they hadn't told her because they wanted to spare her that. She wanted the decision to have been placed in her hands, to be offered a choice. But that was artificial, wasn't it? She would never have had a choice. She would either have known, or she wouldn't. The information couldn't be taken back. Maybe they weren't just protecting themselves, maybe they had been trying to protect her as well. Not just from the threat it would bring her but the grinding responsibility.

"You know him, don't you?" She asked quietly. Instead of nodding or denying it, he seemed disappointed and some of the tension returned to his stance. She appeared to have failed some test. She shouldn't really care. Why hadn't she ended this conversation anyway? Nothing he could say could change her mind.

"In a way."

"Clark, I want to be okay with this. But I don't know if I can."

"I understand," he said quietly.

"It just hurts. I feel so stupid! So…" She took a deep breath and held it as she tried to hold herself back from more tears. She was not going to cry in front of him again. "I know it doesn't mount up to a hill of beans or whatever but I can't pretend I'm cool with this. If it makes you feel any better, I'm as mad as him as I am at you. Madder maybe."

"Doesn't make me feel much better. But thank you for trying."

"You don't really deserve it." She looked down at her shoes. "I mean, yeah, of course you do. I know you're doing good things and that you're a good guy. But you've screwed this up Clark. Maybe I'm being too hard on you, I mean, it's not your secret to tell but…but. Just but."

"I've wanted to tell you so often Lois. So many times. But I was scared about what it would mean for your life. And how you would react."

"All things considering, I feel like I'm handling this pretty well. I mean, some of the people I care most about have been lying to my face for years, messing with my head as well...I would be totally justified never to speak to either of you again." She looked up at him and knew that underneath his calm surface he was in turmoil. He was so similar to Superman in that respect. They could control their emotions so well. Maybe it came with the pretence, they had to have good poker faces. All these years she had told herself Clark was a terrible liar. Hah! What a joke.

"I would understand if you didn't."

"You expect that, don't you? Is that what this is all about? You're scared of being rejected because of this…connection to Superman?"

"Maybe." He leant back against the wall. "I was raised to lie to everyone. My parents cut themselves off from family, friends. I didn't mix with as many other kids." Lois nodded, recalling the interview Maurie had carried out with the local who remembered the Kents being very 'protective' of their adopted son. "People in the town became so scared of the meteor-infected, I can understand why but it meant this secret just got bigger and bigger. If they knew the meteor shower had been caused by the spaceship arriving…"

"Wait, you can't mean the first one? He's been here that long? But he told me…he told me he aged like a human, that would mean he was just a kid when he arrived."

"Exactly."

"But then…how could he…?" The control panel crackled into life as a distorted voice emerged from the speaker.

"Excuse me, I know you kids want some 'privacy' but can you do that outside the elevator?" Clark frowned.

"Of course sir, my apologies, won't happen again." He pressed the button to resume the journey. A few moments later they arrived at their destination. As the door opened he turned and said, "I let my fear get in the way Lois. There aren't many things I'm scared of but losing you terrifies me. It's not much of a defence but it's the only explanation I have." He stepped out and held the doors as she walked out quickly, avoided catching his eye and headed directly for her desk without saying another word to him. She looked around for a distraction in case he followed her and considered some of her stand-by awkward conversation exit strategies: Superman sighting, wardrobe malfunction, and, for the really desperate situations, bad seafood.

Fortunately she was rescued by her phone ringing. She grabbed her cell and answered it. "Chloe, you have called at the exact right moment." Behind her she could hear Clark had also answered his phone. He said a name. It sounded like Senator something. Senator Shepherd?

"Is Clark with you?"

"I'm having trouble shaking the guy off…what's wrong Chlo?" Her tone of voice sounded wrong.

"Something bad has happened. Whatever he says, you can't let him go."

"Go? Go where, what are you talking about?" She was distracted by the sounds of the phones around her suddenly beginning to ring all once. She couldn't make out what Clark was saying behind her and when she looked round at him, his back was to her. But his posture was hunched, his shoulders low.

"Go to China. You can't let him Lois and you're the only one who might be able to stop him. He can't go, do you understand, it's too dangerous."

"Why would he go to China? Come on Ch…hold on. His mom is in China," Lois said.

"It's probably all over the wires now. The State Department are telling him now I guess, I couldn't get through. Whatever you do, don't let him go Lois, it's dangerous."

"You keep on saying that. What's going on with Martha? Tell me!"

"A terrorist group has taken over the nuclear power plant they were touring. They've taken the whole group hostage, including Mrs Kent."


	23. Chapter 23

"Not Martha. This can't be happening," Lois said. She felt blindsided.

"They're threatening to send the plant into meltdown unless the government releases some political prisoners. It's a trap Lois, for Superman." Chloe sighed. "The hostage-takers have asked that Superman be their negotiator."

"Why would they want Superman anywhere near them?" Lois could see Clark hang up his call but she still hadn't seen his face. Perry suddenly appeared at the end of the room and gestured at Clark for him to come over. "I have to go; I'll speak to you later." Lois ended the call and chased after her partner, as he walked quickly across the floor. Several journalists were already looking over at him, having no doubt now heard that Senator Kent was one of the hostages. She took hold of his arm and he looked over at her. His jaw was clenched and his eyes fierce. "Clark, she's going to be okay. I know it."

"I hope so," he said, his voice sounding close to breaking. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it. "I should have seen this coming." Lois was about to ask him what he meant when Perry called them over to the corner.

"Clark, I got a call from a friend just a minute ago. They fill you in?" He nodded. "Whatever you need, time off, anything. Your mother is a good woman, tough too, she's going to be fine."

"I just need one favour sir."

"Name it."

"I need to go out there."

"I was really hoping you wouldn't say that Clark."

"No way are you going out there Smallville!"

"Lois, it's my mom."

"Then I'm going out there with you," she crossed her arms over her chest. "We go together or you don't go at all."

"I don't want either of you out there," Perry scowled.

"You need to stay here Lois. I need you here."

"You need me covering your back, there's no way…"

"Chief, you need to tell her to stay here."

"I'm flattered you think I have some say in all this," Perry said dryly.

"Lois, you can't…excuse us for a minute please chief." He guided Lois round some filing cabinets. "You have to stay here okay?"

"No way are you going out there alone! Chloe already called me and told me to convince you not go out there!"

"Forget what she said. I need to be out there, it's my mom."

"I know. So that's why you need me, you're going to be off your game Smallville, and it's going to be intense out there." He put one hand on the side of her face.

"You need to listen to me. You have to stay. I won't be able to concentrate if there's a possibility you could get caught up in this as well."

"But…"

"…And I need you to find out what's going on here. This has something to do with Eric Summers, I'm sure of it."

"That's why Chloe thinks it's a trap. Is someone going to try and take his powers?" The knowledge she knew about Summers' stealing the alien's powers didn't cause him to pause, he just nodded.

"Exactly. I need you to work out what's going on Lois. Please." She nodded. She hated the idea of him going out to China alone, not only going into a dangerous environment but being alone when he needed a friend. But if there was a conspiracy to steal Superman's powers, that was bigger than both of them. And if this was all part of the same picture, it seemed to stretch all the way from Metropolis to China. What kind of people were behind this?

"You have to come back okay? You can't get yourself hurt. I am already so mad at you, you cannot afford to make me any angrier," she said weakly. He seemed reluctant to let go of her so he hugged her tightly against him instead. She rested her head on his shoulder, tears pricking her eyes. She couldn't believe this was happening. Martha was such a wonderful person, how could something like this happen to her? Or keep happening to her. It didn't need to be said but Lois understood why Mrs Kent had seen more than her fair share of hostage situations and trips to the hospital. Superman. Reason number one in the top ten good reasons Smallville and Superman had to try and keep her out of the loop.

There was a price to pay to know these men.

Even if she wanted to, which she didn't, she couldn't undo that decision. She had signed on long ago to being a part of their lives. She had no regrets about that, no matter how hurt she was now, she wouldn't undo those years. And she didn't want to lose any time they might have ahead of them either. She focussed on the feel of him, his scent. A scent so familiar that it evoked a thousand memories, of the Kent farm, of friendship and sunlight and warmth, even…even someone else entirely.

"Smallville, do you…"

There came a forced cough from behind them and they broke apart. "Sorry to interrupt you two but we need to move on a decision on this, quickly. Clark, I'll need to see if I can pull some strings and get you a visa and then we'll need a flight to…"

"It's no problem sir, Senator Shepherd has already said a visa is arranged for me. And I have a friend who can arrange a plane for me." Perry frowned. The access to friends with private jets would normally have caught his attention but she knew what had really bothered him. Lois felt an uncomfortable foreboding creep over her. She didn't like the way the senator's name had crept up twice in the last few days.

"Shepherd?"

"Yes, he was the one who called me. He said he'd helped my mom arrange the trip, so he felt responsible, wanted to tell me himself." Lois reached over and slid Clark's phone out of his pocket. "Hey, what are you…"

"Just checking something. Don't really want to be right." She pulled up the list of his last incoming call. She knew the number immediately. "Did he say where he was calling from?"

"His home office. What's wrong?"

"This is the number Eric Summers' mother had in her house." Clark shrugged.

"That's odd, but…"

"Clark, there's something I haven't mentioned. Maurie spoke to Eric Summers before he escaped Belle Reeve. Senator Shepherd was the one who okayed his access to him, and over a dozen other inmates. Shepherd was involved in the reorganisation after Tess' trial but it doesn't look like he ever stepped back after the new administration was installed."

"Hold on, Maurie was writing about Belle Reeve? He never filed anything like that," Perry objected. Clark meanwhile had a very troubled expression on his face. He knew right away what this meant.

"It was…background work, for a story on people with super-powers. He binned it," Lois lied quickly. "He got nervous about why he was allowed so much contact with the prisoners and patients."

"You're saying Shepherd had something to do with arranging Summers' release?" Perry asked. "The man's a war hero Lois, you'd something a little more convincing than a phone number to implicate him in something like that. And I'm not sure what that could possibly have to do with the situation right now."

"Superman is the connection chief," Clark said wearily. "If he goes out there…"

"Shepherd didn't tell you?" Perry frowned. "I'm not sure Superman is going anywhere near that plant Kent."

"But the terrorists want him as their negotiator."

"But the Chinese government doesn't. The Chinese want to deal with this on their own, absolutely no Americans, and that includes superheroes. So the state department don't want him anywhere near this mess. They're going to be releasing a statement in a few minutes, we're going to be offering any support they want but it's their party. No gate-crashers allowed."

* * *

When he was scared or sad, she had always sung him the same song. Her own mother had sung it to her as a child and she had always promised herself when she was blessed with children, she would do the same. Whether he would call his arrival in their lives a blessing for his parents, he wasn't sure. Right now she was in trouble because of him but she was still alive, still healthy. He knew because she was humming that same song under her breath. Once he could isolate the song, he could locate her heartbeat, and it was steady and strong, just like always.

She knew that the lead in the plant would prevent him seeing her, hence the humming. He returned every half hour to check up on her and to keep an eye on the state of play. For the moment, there seemed to be a stalemate. The hostage-takers were demanding Superman show up and the police negotiator was demanding that they release some of their prisoners as an act of good faith.

He was sorely tempted to ignore the political ramifications and the fact it was probably a trap and fly in there blind. Chloe knew that of course, so she had asked Lana to monitor the situation on the ground. Her knowledge of the country and her own super-powers made her the best choice to monitor the situation. But that wasn't the real reason she was there. The reason was to keep him away. When she had returned to Metropolis after he and Lois had begun dating, she'd managed to purge herself of her Kryptonite load. But only four months later, he'd been trapped in a collapsing, abandoned LutherCorps laboratory with a stockpile of the rock. No one had been able to move him for fear of causing him to be further buried under the stuff. So Lana had volunteered to solve the problem another way. He'd tried to argue her out of her decision but she'd made it quite clear that she'd rather keep away from him forever than let him die. He and Lana had no future together, he'd known that and his feelings for Lois underscored that realisation, but it had hurt to lose her again from his life.

After the poisoning plot and that incident, his ability to endure Kryptonite's radiation had been drastically eroded. It was now almost impossible for him to be within a hundred yards of his ex-girlfriend. Until she left the area, it was extremely unwise for him to spend much time near the plant.

If Lois thought he didn't understand how it felt to be manipulated for 'your own good', then she was wrong. He was even more surprised that she hadn't cleaned his clock already.

He did one final fly-over the site and then began the flight back to Metropolis. He needed to talk to Chloe and others urgently. He arrived in Watchtower only a few minutes later, a small cracking noise as he landed telling him he might have damaged Chloe's floor again. His fear was making him careless with his powers, and he couldn't afford to make that kind of mistake at the moment.

Chloe was standing in front of a wall of screens, with Oliver standing close beside her and an irritated looking Black Canary casting looks at them from her chair. Zatanna was shuffling cards and noticed his arrival first, greeting him with a wide smile. Impulse and Martian Manhunter's faces were up on screens.

Oliver nudged Chloe's arm and she turned round. "How is she?"

"She's alive," Clark said. "And she sounds unhurt. The same with the rest of the party as far as I can tell." Chloe looked relieved. Given her decision to send Lana out there, it was tempting to believe that she wasn't concerned about his mother's safety. But that would be unfair. She loved his mom too. It was only that that was holding him back from getting very angry with her. There were so many variables in this, so many distractions that he couldn't afford. He just wanted to fly in there and fly out with his mom safe in his arms. But he knew how dangerous that course of action could be. As long as she was bait for him, she was safe. If he got subdued or killed, she and the other hostages would become surplus to requirement. There was a prudence to Chloe's decision but it grated. Perhaps if he had made better choices with the shield, they wouldn't believe that they needed to second-guess him. He wasn't the leader he needed to be yet.

"The Chinese are going to make their move in four hours," Chloe said.

"They're fools to go in there," he said angrily.

"They'll want to exhaust every option before considering asking for you," Oliver said.

"From what Watchtower has told us Kal-El, patience is your best option for now," John Jones added. "Eric Summers' death and your mother's presence are too close together to not be concerning. There is a strong possibility that someone has gathered a great deal of information on you. Belle Reeve provides a rich resource for your enemies."

"It's not impossible for someone to work it out, I never promised you that," Zatanna added. "There are always exceptions."

"And if Senator Shepherd is involved in this there's a chance he could be one of those exceptions," Chloe sighed. "You all know his back story, decorated officer in Vietnam, captured and put in a POW camp." Chloe pulled up information on the politician. The shot of him walking on crutches off a plane onto American soil was endlessly replayed when his career was examined. The ecstatic press coverage during the final dark days of the conflict had helped him launch his political life after the war was over. Key to his appeal was his message that the American Way, however battered and bruised, would survive no matter what. That was easier to believe coming from this man. "He escaped because they executed him. He was shot in the head, buried in a shallow grave, and survived. He dragged himself out of the ground and out of the jungle."

"Could a head trauma like that make him resistant to the shield?" Oliver asked.

"It's one of the possibilities," Zatanna said apologetically. "And if he spent enough time with the in-patients at Belle Reeve, he wouldn't have to look very far to find evidence about your secret."

"We need to find out more about Shepherd," Clark nodded to Chloe. She smiled quickly.

"Already all over it."

"I need to go, I'll speak to you soon." As Clark walked over to the window, Zatanna hurried up behind him and placed a hand on his arm.

"Clark, can I talk to you for a minute?" He nodded. "Chloe told me about your problems with Lois and the shield. That was why I came back to Metropolis actually because she had concerns that there might be some physical damage. I know it's not your top priority right now but…I thought you should know, I don't think the shield will keep her from knowing the truth indefinitely."

"But Chloe…"

"Chloe is a pragmatist. If Lois hasn't been able to overcome the shield yet, there's no logical reason why that should change. There are all kinds of factors I don't understand. But I know a little something about magic." Her eyes sparkled. "And a man like you doesn't fall in love with any ordinary woman." He smiled a little. There was truth in the idea Lois was unique; it was impossible to have an ambivalent reaction to her.

He had felt elated when she'd said she'd known about Superman that morning. It would have brought an end to the hardest lies of all. But instead she had merely come to a fairly reasonable assumption given the power of the shield.

If she could make the leap that far, then maybe she would finally be able to hear the truth. It wasn't the right time for it now but once his mom was safe, he would try to tell her again. He felt a spark of hope that this time, he wouldn't experience the same bitter disappointment the last time he had confessed to her, only for her to dismiss his admission as the product of a jealous, crazed heart.

"Thanks Zatanna."

"Whatever you need Clark," she winked at him, squeezing his arm at the same time.

* * *

As he zeroed in on the location of her apartment, he heard a familiar sound reach him. Lois was chewing her nails, a habit she'd told him she'd managed to shake off in her teens, though she often started up again briefly when she was distracted. As he came within sight of her terrace and began to descend slowly to the ground, she guiltily tucked her hands into her jean pockets. Her hair was hanging down her back, the gentle curls still a little damp from the shower. She wore no make-up, something she rarely did when he was Superman. But her cheeks were a little flushed. Her whole body communicated uneasiness, despite her attempts to conceal it.

And yet she was even more beautiful to him. It had been after she had returned from the future that he had started to realise that whilst objectively he recognised she was an attractive woman, he was recognising that on a very subjective level as well. It had confused him then how someone who he had known for so long could have this effect on him simply by smiling or laughing or glaring at him. He'd come to believe that it had just taken him a while to wake up to it because he was so phenomenally dense when it came to the opposite sex. But it wasn't that. The reason the sight of her face could feel like a hit to the solar plexus was because he was head over heels in love with her. And he had made such a terrible job of handling that.

He'd been keen for Chloe to develop the shield because as well as protecting the people he already cared about, he thought it also offered him the best chance of a family and a future. Without preserving Clark Kent as an identity, he would never be able to sustain a personal life for himself outside of his responsibilities. But instead the shield had made the chances of being with the person he loved exponentially harder.

At first, he hadn't understood that. When she'd dismissed him at the hospital, informing him that neither Clark Kent or Superman could give her the commitment she needed, he'd accepted that too readily. It had confirmed all his worst fears, that his nature would always set him apart and make a normal adult relationship impossible. He'd thought that Lois had given him her answer there and then. She couldn't be with Clark Kent or Superman so that was that. But he hadn't offered her the chance to be with Clark Kent _as_ Superman.

Part of his unease with telling Lois had also disappeared when he had read the article she had written. He had been scared that the way she looked at Superman had little to do with who he was, as a person, and a lot to do with the costume. That was unfair to her of course but he felt a little justified in this assumption. When she spoke about Superman she was so naked in her admiration that it confounded him. What else could prompt this gushing, love-struck version of Lois except being besotted with the Superman she had created? He hadn't discouraged her from that, at the start he had probably colluded in it, eager for the attention since their romantic relationship had crumbled. But her open adoration of The Man of Steel had clouded him to the truth. Despite the shield, despite the costume, and all the lies she did see him for he truly was. In a way no one else ever had.

Was it self-indulgent to admit that that piece had made him cry? He hadn't been able to help the tears streaming down his face as he saw what she had written. The understanding had shaken him to his core. Now he knew that she had submitted the piece knowing she had been betrayed made him appreciate her generosity all the more.

That was why her beauty still managed to stagger him after so long, because he was still being taken aback by her heart.

She acknowledged his arrival with a nod.

"I can't stay long but I heard you call."

"Thanks Kal-El. I needed to talk to you, just in case you need to go in there." The there in question didn't need to be explained, the events in China were all over the news channels. He was uploading news stories to the Planet website himself, after his 'arrival' there. The charade was an extra frustration. She beckoned to him to follow her inside and he walked into the dimly lit lounge. Instead of halting there she continued to walk towards her bedroom, opening the door and entering. After a moment's pause he realised she expected him to follow her. This was highly unusual. He had only been inside Lois' apartment a handful of times as Superman and that had only been because the terrace had been inhospitably wet or cold. On the occasions he was invited inside, they both stood.

Her bedroom was only illuminated by a bedside lamp. Lois was leaning against her desk. The scene felt curiously intimate.

"I wanted you to know about something, just in case." She stepped to one side and revealed a box resting on the desk behind her. It was labelled with a date range and a number twelve. "My friend who died recently…well, you know he was an excellent reporter. Seems like he was a better one than me anyway. He left me his notes as part of his will. They weren't notes for his published stories. They were all notes on Clark Kent." She bit her lip as she put a tentative hand on the box. "And then they became about you. I'm not sure if Clark has spoken to you about this already…"

"It's okay Lois, I know."

"Oh. Okay." She released a shaky breath. "I haven't looked in all the other boxes really but…"

"Other boxes?" This was alarming. The box number should have warned him perhaps. Maurie wouldn't have considered one box an adequate investigation. He was again curious about how much the reporter had learned. Maurie had always had possessed a formidable mind, had that been sufficient to overcome the shield? The idea of the investigation didn't hurt him as he might have predicted it would, though perhaps if he saw what people had said about him behind his back he might feel a little more uncomfortable. Investigating was what Maurie did and he must have provoked too many intriguing ideas for him to resist. He didn't believe that the old reporter had done this under someone else's instigation. Maurie had always deplored the idea of being manipulated, and if he'd backed off from Belle Reeve because he suspected it, that only confirmed this idea.

Lois on the other hand seemed to feel very guilty about Maurie's actions. No wonder she had been trying to ignore that box in her car boot.

"There's a whole storage container of them in the Eazee-Store on Calvin Street, if someone in the government was using Maurie to try and get information about you out of the inmates, then there's a chance they know about the rest of his investigation as well. I suppose it would be better if I could tell you what was in there but I don't know. Maurie was always very thorough though," she said quickly.

"We should probably discuss what to do about them at more length soon then."

"Yeah, maybe not the information you want out there. I'm sorry," she said abruptly.

"You have nothing to apologise for Lois. I wanted you to learn more about my past."

"Why did you, I forget?" She asked quietly.

"I didn't want to lie to you anymore. I didn't want to hurt you like that anymore. And I suppose I hoped that if you knew what had happened you would understand why I've stayed away from you. Not been honest with you about how I feel." She shook her head.

"Logically I know you both had your reasons for doing this. But in my gut I just feel so angry. And I'm not sure if I even want to forgive you." He swallowed, trying to find the right thing to say next. She didn't seem angry, she just seemed worn out, as if she was sick of the pain. Sick of him.

"Is that all you feel?" He asked tentatively. She looked up sharply, her eyes narrowing as she considered his question. Then a look of surprise softened her expression.

"No. Underneath that I still…still. I guess that makes me the world's biggest fool," she laughed. "But I guess I've proved that well enough over these last few years."

"No," he said firmly. "Don't think that. You know me better than anyone, despite all the magic and the technology that's been thrown at you. Despite all that, you still know me. I know you do now. Forgive me for doubting that." She stepped forward, a small step.

"I didn't want to write that piece in some ways. But they needed to know the truth, who you really are. I can't bear what they're trying to make you into."

"You don't know what it meant to me to read that," he said rawly. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again her eyes were shining with unshed tears. He moved closer to her. When she didn't flinch from his presence, he gathered her into his arms and held her tightly. Her arms snaked around his waist, her hands on his back. The feel of her warmth so close to him made his heart ache. He had so much to lose, here and in that power plant. Suddenly the danger seemed so close that it was pressing down on him, as if he was going to lose everyone that meant something to him. He didn't want to let go but when her hand moved to his arm and pushed back, he stepped away, trying to gather his composure again.

"There's another reason I asked you here and it's the same reason I submitted that article." She turned back to her desk and opened the bottom drawer. She pulled something out and then held it out for him to see. It was a photograph of the two of them at the Kent Farm. It had been taken after they had started dating, by Chloe he remembered. She was sitting on his lap, her head thrown back in laughter because he'd been trying to topple her off her impromptu seat. He was smiling too, his eyes locked on her face. He remembered that look well. It was one that said, 'what have I done to deserve this stroke of luck?' She looked at the photograph with the faintest of smiles on her face, as if she too recalled the joy he had experienced in that heady time. "When I was hovering over the delete button, I was thinking to myself, what would Clark do? And that's why I sent it, in the end. Because I knew he would." Her words staggered him. What was she trying to tell him? "I know it's selfish to ask this of you but can you keep your eye out for him as well, when you're out there? I have this sick feeling that something awful is going to happen to him. I couldn't bear that."

"Everything will be okay," he said, though his own swirling fears still hovered at the back of his mind.

"I know," she lied. "I need you and Martha to come through this okay. But I wanted you to see this because I thought you might not know."

"Know what?"

"How much he means to me. We've never talked about it and I don't know if you two have but I thought you should know. If I mean anything to you, please protect him." Her cheeks were stained pink but she held his gaze almost defiantly. She was trying to communicate something to him but he dared not ask without tying himself into awkward knots. Instead of saying anything he nodded and when she sighed and leaned back against the desk again he took that as his cue to depart. As he walked back towards the terrace doors he heard her light footsteps behind him on the carpet. "Wait." He turned and she collided into him, her mouth suddenly pressed against his with a kind of desperate urgency. She detached herself before he could respond and touched her lips delicately with her fingers. "I need you both to come home."

"Lois, I…" He reached out for her but she was already walking back quickly.

"Go. Please go before I do anything else that's stupid." Her face was concealed by shadow now so he couldn't get any extra clue of what she might be feeling. His urge to stay warred with his responsibilities outside. He needed to check on his mom again soon, so that decided his next action for him. As he left he looked at her once more and said,

"I am coming back Lois." She saw her nod and then flew far up into the higher reaches of the atmosphere so he could begin his flight back to the power plant again. As he looked down on the jewel-like colours of the planet beneath him he tried to feel bolstered by the sliver of hope Lois' words had offered him. But the dread he had been feeling since he had first received the call from Shepherd weighed like concrete on his heart. Whatever was coming, he only prayed that he could protect those he loved from his mistakes.


	24. Chapter 24

Lois Lane didn't want to observe life. She had watched and been able to do nothing as her mother slipped out of her grasp. So she had promised herself that things would never be that way for her again. She wasn't arrogant enough to believe that she could control life but if she couldn't control it then she wanted to be in the thick of the action.

Sitting in the Planet offices at ten o'clock that night, she was slap bang in the middle of the big story again. But all she could so was watch and listen as it unfolded. At ten the Chinese had tried to storm the nuclear plant. At ten twenty it was clear that their casualties were high and the attempt was being abandoned. They had believed that because the group had historically been under-resourced, that they would be able to swamp them with their greater numbers and firepower. That had turned out to be faulty intel and a dozen men had paid the price with their lives. By eleven there was talk of Superman being called in. Almost before that information had been picked up by the world's press, Superman was reported as being in discussion with the people in charge outside the plant about him having a face-to-face meeting with the terrorists. He'd clearly been waiting for the decision to come.

At midnight he walked into the plant by himself. A photograph had captured his journey, his back to the camera, the red cape idling behind him in the light breeze as he walked towards an unknown future. She wished she could have seen his face in those moments, had a last look at him before he faced whatever awaited him inside. Even worse was the fact that Clark's calls and emails had dried up. Perry was frustrated but not surprised; he hadn't expected that Clark would be able to maintain the distance necessary with this mother in so much danger. Only a handful of reporters were allowed near the perimeter of the site, and most of those worked for the Chinese state-sponsored media. That had made Clark's presence a real coup, especially considering the paper's international resources had been gutted under the LutherCorps stewardship. But now the Planet was relying on the wires, along with the rest of the international press.

She called Clark's cell at ten past, and heard it ring unanswered for the forth time in quick succession. The knowledge that something was wrong was pressing down on her. Clark was too mindful of others to ignore his phone, even when his mom's life was at risk. He'd know how scared she was for him, for Martha.

She didn't tell anyone about her fears though. She didn't have the energy to rise from her seat and she felt that if she opened her mouth only a thin croak would emerge. Her colleagues were running backwards and forwards across the office, calling out suggestions to each other as they pulled together what information they could. No one came to her desk to ask for her help or her opinion. It was as if she wasn't there at all.

The televisions mounted on the walls were suddenly un-muted and people began to huddle round them. Lois turned her head slightly to see what they were watching. Finally some video was coming out of the area and the news channels were screening long shots of the plant. A few minutes passed as the news anchors tried to interpret the Chinese narration of the live footage. But then a loud boom rocked the scene and the camera shakily re-focused on the plant. A building in front of the chimneys was on fire with one of its walls appearing to crumble. Then there was a second explosion and a black dot flew out of the structure at inhuman speed into the sky. The camera valiantly tried to track it but it had disappeared above the cloud cover. The Chinese forces snapped into action, and began to head towards the plant.

The newsroom broke into an excited hum as they reacted to what they'd just seen. The fact they had no idea _what_ they'd just seen only heightened the buzz. It was strange to watch it at one remove, Lois thought. Usually she was riding a long series of adrenaline highs at a moment like this. She'd be hitting the phones and twisting arms to try and get the lead on the rest of the pack. And she'd be bouncing ideas off Clark of course, because she trusted his judgement and she trusted him never to scoop her. He also kept up with her relentless pace, just as hungry as her to unfold the story. He had an almost complete lack of personal ambition because for him it was about discovering the truth, trying to understand human nature and searching for justice. It was a wonder that that was enough in such a cut-throat environment. But then Clark was unique. Utterly unique and not answering his phone.

As she listened to his phone ring and ring again she glanced at the television. The footage of the figure bursting out of the building and flying away was being slowed down and analysed. In close up the blur of pixels seemed to show two figures, not one. One clad in black. One clad in red and blue. But the black pixels seemed to wrap around the red and blue, until it was almost obscured. Lois accepted this information with calm. She had known that he was in trouble and this was merely confirmation. Clark and Superman were both in terrible, terrible danger.

Her cell phone buzzed suddenly and her heart lept in her chest as she snatched it up.

"Clark?"

"Lois, it's me," her cousin's voice came down the line. "Martha's okay, all the hostages are okay. The terrorists have all surrendered. They should be leading them out of the plant now." Sure enough, on television, the camera had zoomed in on a group of people moving towards the perimeter fence. Their desperate, staggering run said these people were the captives. Lois didn't wonder how Chloe knew before the media knew. She had always been one step ahead of everyone else; there was no reason that should change. She was glad that was Martha was safe, or at least she knew she was glad. Right now she couldn't really feel much of anything.

"Clark isn't answering his phone," Lois said, her voice quite detached.

"I know. I don't know where he is Lois. But we're going to find him, okay?"

"Did you see, on TV? Someone flew off with Superman. Someone has his powers Chlo."

"We don't know that for sure."

"I do." She hung up. Somehow Clark's fate was tied up with Superman's now; she knew that, even though on the surface it made no sense. To anyone, Clark Kent would be merely the stepping stone to acquiring Superman, and now someone had him, Clark wasn't of use. But despite that she knew that whatever trouble Superman was in, Clark was in it too.

She rang Oliver, hoping he would be able to provide her with answers.

"Lois? Now isn't a great time." Oliver sounded out of breath.

"Where's Clark?" He said nothing. There was a lot of noise in the background. Sirens, shouts. Was he there at the plant as well? Had he flown over on the same jet as Clark? "You must know where he is Ollie."

"Lois, we're going to find him, okay?" Chloe had said the exact same thing. They were managing her. Lois took a deep breath, a well of emotions threatening to burst through her flat detachment, before she clamped down on them again.

"Don't spin me a line Ollie, what's happening out there?"

"We warned him it was a trap but he went in anyway. It never makes a difference to him," his voice was taut with frustration.

"Superman walked into a trap, not Clark. Where's Clark?"

"I don't know, alright, I don't know."

"What if he's hurt? What if he tried to get into the plant and they found him and…"

"Lois, we'll take of it. We'll find him."

"God, you're a liar," and she hung up in disgust. Maybe she was being unfair on him but she didn't care. Ollie couldn't help her right now, neither could Chloe. They weren't going to tell her what she needed to know and she doubted they even knew themselves. She guessed her next move was to fly out there but somehow that didn't seem right. When that figure had flown out of the roof she had known that the field had moved on from there to some new location. Wherever Clark and Superman were now, it wasn't there. China felt wrong, it had all felt wrong, like a smokescreen to throw them off balance. She could feel it in her gut and since that was about the only thing she was feeling right now, she was going to act on that.

But if they weren't in that plant, then where would they be? Where should she be? She needed to be close to Clark in some way. If she could do that, maybe she could work out where he was. She always did her best thinking when she was around him. She stood up on shaky legs and made her way to the elevator. No one noticed her leave, they were too busy with the story.

* * *

Two hours later she was walking through the front door of the Kent farm. She could feel the warmth of the place reach out to wrap itself around her. Always understanding, always forgiving. There wasn't anything she could do that this place wouldn't forgive. The very definition of home. She pushed the door closed behind her, and then headed towards Clark's room. As she stepped over the threshold she felt the first wave of emotions hit her. It almost staggered her and she grabbed on to the doorframe to hold her up. To be so close to his things, his space, and to know that he was missing, perhaps gone forever, was crippling. Rather than revitalising her, it was unlocking the gates that held back all her fear. She stumbled towards his bed and collapsed on to it, wracking sobs sending tremors through her frame.

She lay there for what felt like hours, her reason, her control completely lost as she curled in on herself. Once she had exhausted herself, a heavy sleep descended over her like a curtain, shutting out reality.

In her dream, Superman had been there. He had told her he was going to be alright and that he would come back to her soon. Then he kissed her and took her by the hand to the bed. Clark's bed. And that didn't seem to matter to either of them, why should it? And he touched her and held her as if he had always needed her and always would. She had never felt so loved as when he looked at her with those brilliant eyes of his. How could she forget those eyes? They were one in a million, just as there were no two like him anywhere. Utterly unique. There was only one man who could hold her entire future in his gaze.

She woke slowly, her mind reluctant to let go of the comfort of the dream. She curled her hands into Clark's pillow as she tried to keep hold of the images and buried her face into the fabric as she tried to recapture the feel of his skin, his smell.

A small voice in her mind wondered if this was right. Surely what she was doing didn't make sense.

She sighed as the scent refreshed the warmth and security of her dream. Then her eyes opened wide. She scrambled to sit up, her limbs entangled in Clark's bedsheets. She kicked her way free of them and half-fell out of the bed on to the floor. She knelt there, looking at the blue plaid blanket and the dark red pillows and it was as if a switch had been flicked and a cold light illuminated the whole truth before her. It was all laid out for her in one horrible moment.

She had been sleeping in Superman's bed. The smell of Clark lingered here in his room, on his sheets and that smell was Kal-El's smell. The man she had kissed in the alley and the man she had kissed on the Planet rooftop and kissed in her apartment and in the copy room and in the coffee shop and in the Talon and in the back row of the movies. There weren't two secrets, there was one. She hadn't fallen out of love with Clark and fallen in love with Superman, she had just carried on loving him.

It was always him. Saving her when she was a breath away from death. Appearing where he shouldn't be. Disappearing when he should be by her side. Knowing which filing cabinet to open, recognising criminals he shouldn't have heard of, running into buildings when it was suicide. The connection to Smallville, the meteor showers, the strange adoption, it was all so clear, so obvious.

And the lie, oh, the lie. It was so much bigger than she thought. So much worse. So much neater as well. Because there were gaps before, a puzzle that didn't fit together. And now she had looked at the picture on the lid of the jigsaw and the unfathomable had become obvious. Where she'd thought there were two individuals separated by a gulf there were simply two halves of the same whole. It made so much sense of her own feelings as well, the way she could care about two men so intensely at the same time and yet be able to reconcile that in some way. She hadn't felt as conflicted and as torn as she should have done because she knew, somewhere inside her, deep down where his damned mind control device didn't reach, that this was the same man.

She had known, she must have known, as soon as he first flew down and landed on the sidewalk beside her.

He'd said she was the test. If she didn't know him, then the thing worked. She was to be deployed and manoeuvred, her ignorance and gullibility making her invaluable. She could feel those same ugly emotions ready to flood over her again and this time she wasn't sure she'd be able to get past them. This was a different order of lie altogether. This was too much for her to take.

But then she remembered where she was. If she had been anywhere else when she had finally understood his secret, then maybe, just maybe her heart would have broken too badly for her to even think of forgiving it. But she was on the Kent farm. This was what he was protecting. A family, a home, a whole life away from Superman. He was protecting Chloe and the chief and Lana and Terry and his grade school English teacher and the coffee girl who he wasn't attracted to and even that maddening dog.

She recalled what he'd been like after Jimmy had died. He'd worked himself into the ground as the Blur, cutting himself off from his life because he thought being a hero meant total self-abnegation. How he had become cold and hollow. The mistake he had made with Kate Roberts.

That was just one of the consequences of a life of Superman and no Clark Kent. She had understood the rationale behind his necessity for another life before but now she really knew that other life, was a part of it, she could see how sane it kept him under the kind of demands that would buckle most ordinary men. The idea of him losing Clark to serve the world horrified her. His life at the Planet and at the farm might not mean much to the world but to her it was something extraordinary. The mundane, ordinary life of a being who could walk on the surface of the sun.

For the sake of those things, she needed to get past this.

She looked over to his desk and the picture that stood there. It was a picture of his father as a younger man. It captured some of the charm in his easy smile. Clark had some of the same way with people of course, a straight-forwardness that people responded to and a politeness that disarmed them. But the authority, the quiet reserves of leadership that Jonathan and his wife possessed, wasn't in this picture. That too was something Clark had.

The sacrifice wasn't there either. The Kents could, and would, do whatever it took to help those in need. Carrying groceries or giving up their free time or shouldering the weight of a collapsing freeway. It seemed like it had been another Lois who had believed Superman and Clark were two different people. The knowledge was so defined and solid in her mind now that it seemed it must always have been there. Because of course the Kents had raised Superman. Who else could have done it? If they had been anything, anybody else, he wouldn't be quite the man he was. The world had no idea how much they owed these people. She felt a fresh pang of regret that Jonathan had never been able to see his son grow up. He would have so proud.

To her surprise, she realised she was too. That kid she had run into with her car, the one almost too shy and awkward to ask the girl he loved for a dance. The same one who had blushed crimson when she'd shared the bathroom with him while he was showering. This same boy had become a hero to millions. A hero to her.

She was angry with him, yes, but mostly because they had wasted so much time. She could have been there for him, supported him, rather than make his life a battle. How much easier would it be to slip away to put out a house fire if she wasn't haranguing him for abandoning her at a press conference or for forgetting her sandwich from the deli. She could have been his sounding board or a shoulder to lean on. His punching bag even. But instead they had played this stupid game with each other. She berating him for not being the man she had hoped he was whilst all the time he had been that exact man, and he keeping her at a distance because he was afraid…but afraid of what? Her reaction to the truth? That she would reject him?

No matter what he said, that had to be the heart of it. She had pushed him away as hard as she could when she'd unravelled in front of him, how much greater would his fear be over his secret? An alien, a superhero. It was about as much as one person could be expected to handle. Maybe it would have been too much for her once.

Five years ago she might have rehashed the same argument that she didn't want to come second to the greater good again. Five months ago she would have said that she and Clark had had their shot. Five weeks ago she would have said that she didn't want to be in the shadow of Superman any longer. But reasons, logic be damned, he was _her _Smallville. Nothing would change that, even this.

She laughed suddenly. What had it taken her to realise that? Just a funeral, a whole storage container of notes, a dinner date from hell and one terrorist group in a nuclear plant. All that was required to stop her being so stubborn. All kinds of steps had led to this point but in truth she should have been looking for this long ago. It had been easier to separate them out; Clark, the innocent farm-boy with no surprises, and Superman, the fantasy brought to life. They had both been exactly what she had allowed them to be, no more.

She curled her hands into tight fists. Now she was looking for one man, one stupid, frustrating, astounding man, it would make her job that much easier. But she wasn't going to be put off or pushed aside any longer; she _was_ going to find him and he _was_ going to be in one whole, healthy piece when she did. After all, how could she tear strips off him for his stupidity if he wasn't okay?

If someone had stolen his powers then there had to be a link with Eric Summers and Senator Shepherd. She felt some of the weariness leach from her bones as she reached for her cell. She was back to being in the story rather than stuck on the sidelines. She saw she had a few missed calls from Chloe and dialled her number. She cursed herself for sleeping through the buzzing of her phone, there could be news about Clark!

"Lois, thank god, where are you?"

"I'm fine Chlo, I've been…thinking. Have you heard anything about Clark?"

"No, he's still M.I.A." Chloe sighed, "Look Lois, this isn't exactly the right time but I think you should come to Watchtower so we can talk. I can't let you go on thinking…"

"I know," she cut in. They might keep her dangling but she wasn't about to do the same. "But we don't have time for that right now, I need to get back on Shepherd Chlo, I know this guy stinks, and Maurie knew it too."

"Wait, you know what? Lois, are you saying…?"

"Yes, I'm saying what you think I'm saying. But I'm not going to say it. If the government is mixed up in this then I'm not going to trust my phone with something like that." Chloe was silent for a moment. "You're not saying anything."

"Sorry, sorry, it's just…I mean, wow. I didn't ever think you'd be able to…wow." Lois rolled her eyes.

"Thanks for flattering my intelligence."

"I didn't mean it like that, it was never about being smart. You have to understand that."

"We don't have time for a blow by blow analysis of how you all messed with my head." It was a lot harder to get past this when she was actually talking to Chloe about it. Maybe she'd been a little optimistic to believe she'd be able to overlook it entirely. That higher road and everything was going to be tough work. She tried to push her anger to one side, it wasn't the priority right now, and she didn't want to make it one anyway. "Right now we need to find him."

"Okay," Chloe sounded relieved to forgo that conversation for the time being. "I was going to ask you about your contacts at Met prison."

"I know a few of the guys down there," Lois frowned. "So what?"

"Someone just tried to kill Tess Mercer."

"Other than providing compelling evidence of karma, why should we be interested?" Lois said dryly as she began to gather her abandoned things from the bed. She needed to get back to the Planet as soon as possible so she could start working on the Shepherd angle. Or perhaps another trip to Summers' mother?

"The woman who stabbed her wrote a message in her blood next to her. It was Kryptonian Lois. It said 'He will rise again'."


	25. Chapter 25

When she arrived at Chloe's office, for a moment she couldn't see her cousin. Then she realised the petite blonde woman standing in front of a bank of screens _was_ Chloe Sullivan. This was the person she had been concealing from her for years, as much a secret identity as Clark Kent's. She'd suspected that she had been helping Oliver, even Superman in some way. But this place was the nerve centre. Chloe was right at the heart of it.

Her cousin saw her and turned round, a nervous look on her face.

"Welcome to Watchtower Lois." Lois nodded, the significance of the name becoming clear to her. Chloe was the eyes and ears, who else would you trust with that kind of responsibility? This was the role that had called her away from her childhood dream of being a reporter. She looked round the main room, assessing what she saw in light of this new understanding. She felt embarrassed about her own life suddenly. She'd thought she'd really made something of herself and her best friends were out saving the world. She'd been pumped when she'd finally managed to get her cable sorted. How could they find a space for her in this part of their lives when she was just a clueless civilian?

She shook her head. They were just going to have make space, she was Lois Lane for god's sake. But right now she had two priorities: Find Clark, and then: Let everyone know they had seriously messed up but she was going to be a big girl about it and forgive them, after an appropriate period of verbal flaying, say, eighteen months or so.

Personal crises had to wait until she'd sorted the first two. She needed Clark to be okay, more than anything. The idea of him hurt or dying somewhere made her stomach clench and food threaten to rise up her throat. Dead wasn't even being thought about, it was unthinkable. No way, no how.

Chloe came over to her, clearly waiting for her to deliver her verdict. Her little cousin had been playing, been lying to her, for a long time. She'd let her moon on about Clark and Superman without warning her what a fool she was making of herself. There was the matter of the shield as well, which Lois was pretty sure she'd been involved in. And the idea of using her as the test case. Clark was a lot of things, but ruthlessly pragmatic wasn't it, whereas Chloe...

It hurt to think about her family that way but it was true. This was a woman who'd gone toe-to-toe with the Luthors, who had helped Clark perform the biggest coming out in history. She'd also been tangled up with Davis Bloome somehow. It had made her tougher, stronger. More willing to take the hard choices.

That was another consequence of knowing Clark's secret. It changed you, stripped away the protective cocoon of ignorance. Had Clark seen the effect on his best friend and decided he didn't want to see the same thing happen to her? Whatever choices Chloe had made, they didn't rest on her easily. She remembered that time by the pool when Chloe had talked about Jimmy and what he would have thought of her life. Had something tied up to playing den mother to all these superheroes made her feel suicidal?

She must have felt so alone.

"So, anything else you might have been forgetting to tell me?" She tried to keep her tone light.

"Uh…"

"And I already know you and Oliver had a thing a while back, I mean I've been blind but I'm not that stupid." Chloe looked a little pink.

"I uh, might have kissed Will Carpenter that summer I stayed with you and the General?"

"I can't believe you!" Lois cried. "We swore neither of us would go out with him!"

"I know," Chloe looked shamefaced. Lois crossed her arms and smiled suddenly.

"Guess it's a good thing I made out with him after all then."

"Lois!"

"What, he was cute! But a bit of a dog obviously."

"Can you forgive me?" Lois sighed.

"I want to. But this is a bit bigger than playing tonsil hockey with our crush-object. You've all made me feel so stupid. Clark's lied to everyone his whole life but we swore we'd always be honest with each other. I mean, mind control Chlo, that's messed up!"

"I know. I lied to Jimmy as well and the stupid thing was that he would have understood." She brushed her hair back and looked around the watchtower, considering the tools of her trade. "He forgave me before he died. But he was that kind of guy." She looked down at the floor for a moment before refocusing. "There's something you should know though Lois, before you judge Clark too harshly. He's never really told anyone. You're the only person he's ever tried to follow this through with."

"What do you mean?" Lois frowned.

"Lana, Ollie, me, Lex, Lionel, Pete, hell, even Alicia, they all found out by themselves really, or because he was backed into a corner."

"He never told you," Lois was aghast. Clark's fear over his alien inheritance was far worse than she imagined. He must have felt so isolated. "And Lex and Lionel knew? What a nightmare that must have been. I'm surprised he never ended up stuck in some cage." Chloe shrugged.

"Sometimes he did." Lois felt that same nausea hit her again. The mental images she was summoning made her flesh crawl.

"That was because he saved Lex's life when drove off that bridge, wasn't it? I heard the story. That's how he got on their radar." Chloe nodded. One decent act had opened him up to the attentions of a pair of sociopaths. Just like saving the life of Frank Charter had turned into an obsession. The thought of Charter brought her back to what she needed to be thinking about, finding Clark. "Obviously I want to hear all about what really happened back then but I need to hear it from his lips, and to do that, I need to find him. Tell me you've made some progress."

Chloe shook her head. "Ollie is on his way back from China as we speak. No sign of him there."

"China was just to get us distracted, take him off his home turf. Something we're not seeing is going on here. We can forget about Charter, the guy's a con-artist, he doesn't have the reach for anything like this. Anyway, he was sitting in his new headquarters that some well-wisher has donated to him, surrounded by acolytes when Superman went in there." Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Cops are still sitting on him. Sicko's organising a candlelit vigil for Superman in the Plaza later. The press have been notified, of course. But Shepherd is different. Do you have anything on him?"

"Nothing concrete but I'm still digging."

"If Shepherd helped Summers get out in exchange for information on stealing Superman's powers, then he might know who has them now." That would be the identity of the black pixels who had flown off with Clark. "But then why was Summers killed? Is the religious angle a cover? Ugh! I don't know anything!" She balled her fists.

"Did you have any luck with your sources at the prison?"

"Tess is in the medical wing under armed guard. No visitors, not even her lawyer yet. The Feds are all over it. There's no way I'm getting in there. I don't get the angle anyway, how could Tess be considered a threat to Superman? She was convicted only a few months after he appeared. Unless she was somehow pissing Clark off. Did she? Did she know about him?"

Chloe's expression became troubled.

"Tess idolised Clark, thought he was a saviour. In anything she has more in common with these religious killers than their victims."

"You're telling me a LutherCorps CEO knew Clark's secret and didn't try to exploit that? I find that hard to believe."

"She might know who's trying to kill her, if we knew that then there might be a link to whoever's behind taking him. Do you think you can get her to talk to you?"

"I helped put her away, she might not want to share her deepest darkest with me. Plus, I can't exactly put on my maid's outfit and pretend I'm dusting the blinds. It's a prison Chlo."

"You forget, I know a few people," and Chloe smiled in a way that suggested things were about to get very interesting.

* * *

Breaking into prison felt like it should be a lot harder. But all it had taken was careful planning, an incredibly flashy helicopter, and nerves of steel. Thankfully Chloe knew some people who could take care of the first two, and all she had to do was pretend she had the third. She supposed the guards were focussed on trying to stop people trying to head the other way.

"Tess. Tess, wake up!" Lois hissed at the sleeping woman. She cast a look around her. The medical wing was deserted for the time being. The guard was unconscious, as was the duty nurse, and there were no other patients at the moment. But it wouldn't be long before someone decided to stroll by and the effect of the drugged darts would wear off eventually. Plus dawn was coming, and this kind of enterprise was best conducted under darkness.

The Green Arrow was at the window, watching for trouble. When they were ready to go, he would call the helicopter and its pilot back. Lois had had to spend the entire ride pretending she didn't recognise the man at the controls of the silent chopper. Well, either he was the man himself, or just an insane pilot who liked to dress up in black armour and creepy masks. If she hadn't been freaking out about the plan, she might have tried for an exclusive.

Or maybe not. The guy kind of gave her the creeps. Never mind intimidating criminals, she felt like throwing herself at his feet and begging for mercy for not doing enough recycling.

Oliver had also placed some little gadgets at the doors to keeping an eye on things, allowing him to keep by her side. He seemed to want to be close to Mercer but not too close. Whenever he looked over at her pitifully thin figure, he swallowed hard. Oliver didn't fall in love very often. But when he did, he didn't shake it off too easily. Which was why he had agreed to get her in here in the first place. He had loved her once too.

"Mercer," Lois pinched her arm and clamped a hand over the woman's mouth. She jerked awake, her eyes wide and her whole body tensing against her restraints. Maybe it wasn't too smart to surprise a woman who'd just had someone try to kill her. But then nothing about this nocturnal jaunt was sensible. It was the riskiest thing she had done in a long time. The stakes were so high right now and she needed to take action, even if it was desperate, borderline insane action. Tess finally realised where she was and who was standing over her. She didn't seem very happy about it.

That wasn't too surprising. Lois had helped build the case against her. She'd even been a witness at her trial.

"We don't have a lot of time."

"I shouldn't be here."

"Yeah, well, make friends and influence people as sweetly as you do and sometimes life knocks you on your ass. Can the recriminations Tess. Someone tried to wipe you out from the outside. Now, I'd like to help you out with that."

Tess shook her head. Prison had taken a toll on her but her pride and stubbornness seemed undimmed. She was a tough bitch alright, Lois had to give her credit for that.

"Okay, reality check Mercer, somehow you ended up in Gen Pop, and somehow the guards turned a blind eye long enough for this psycho chick who shived you to write a message in your own blood. Now, she didn't learn those pictograms in the prison library, someone coached her. Someone arranged this. You're just lucky your blood is so ice cold you didn't bleed out."

"I have no desire to help you. The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Tess muttered back defiantly. But Lois knew she had her. She was propped up on one elbow, sweat collecting around her hairline. Despite the morphine drip, it was clear she was in a lot of pain and the drugs were slurring her voice, making her stumble over words. Mercer knew she was in serious trouble and like any good LuthorCorps boss, she knew when to cash out of the game.

"Your worst enemy has always been yourself, so that makes me your new BFF. Why did they try to kill you Tess? What made you a target for the Superfans?" Tess scowled.

"I never wanted to be his enemy. I only wanted for him to be the hero we needed. But he refused to make the difficult choices. You can't save humanity from itself and have the luxury of keeping your morals." Lois rolled her eyes. Tess had always trotted out the same line about wanting to heal the world. It might have convinced Ollie but it didn't work on her. Mercer might be a whole lot more coiffed than Lex Luthor but she was coming from the same place. Sure, she only wanted to help the world. That just necessitated gathering as much power over people's lives as she could. Whereas Superman, who had been born with the kind of power they were scrambling for, wanted to use his strength as little as possible to interfere in the lives of people.

It was obvious that Tess had disagreed with Clark about how he should be using his powers. Given the shield's effectiveness, it seemed more likely she'd learnt his secret when he was the Blur. The thought made her feel a little jealous. Though the world shared Superman, she felt like she had had the Blur at least, all to herself. It sounded like whilst Lois was trying to nudge him towards the light, Tess had been trying to get her hooks into him for her own reasons.

But what had she done that these killers could see as a betrayal of their messiah? And how had they found out about it?

Tess fixed her with a sharp glare, concentrating through the pain.

"This won't be admissible in court, so you're wasting your time if you're recording this."

"I don't care about your jail time Tess, spit it out."

"I just needed him out of the city for long enough that I could finish the work. I gave specific orders that he wasn't to be harmed. I hardly expected you to come blundering into it all." She was talking about the poisoning plot. She'd intended to make Clark sick?

"But you wanted the meteor infected people," Lois said insistently. "For all your experiments." She had assumed since discovering Tess' connection with Lieutenant Thomas and his squad of hired thugs that it was all about furthering her experiments with the super-powered. The D.A. had certainly gone with that angle in the trial, though they hadn't been able to prove it in the end.

"I would never have employed such crude methods. And they don't need to be flushed out, in case you haven't noticed, they tend to expose themselves."

Lois felt something slide into place. "The meteor rocks kept him away. You used them to keep him out of the city by flooding the whole water supply." They didn't have time to go into how some meteorite could have such a powerful effect on a seemingly invulnerable man, there was a more important question. "Why?"

"Because of them. The Kandorians."

"Can-who?"

"From the Kryptonian city of Kandor," Tess said with irritation. "All this time you've spent with him and he's told you nothing. I'm not surprised, you never had the class to capture the attention of a man like that for very long." Lois smiled slightly. Tess had seemingly forgotten they had actually both dated Oliver Queen but she wasn't about to mention that. She doubted Ollie was going to chip in to point that out either. "Your ignorance has always protected you Lane but that won't last forever. Sooner or later, they'll come for you as well. You're a weakness and they'll exploit it." Superman had mentioned his cousin had survived the destruction of his home planet but he'd never discussed larger numbers. People were okay with one alien but any more than that, they might not be so laidback about the idea. They'd start muttering about invasions. They had to be out of commission now though, surely they couldn't have been other Super-people running around Metropolis for all this time without someone noticing? But maybe they were allies of Superman, maybe he was protecting them. There was so much she didn't know, despite having the blindfold taken off.

"Mutual respect can wait Tess, tell me what happened."

"They found out I gave Thomas the meteor rock of course, your stories in the Planet saw to that. I was installing an insurance policy, in case they weren't the saviours I thought they would be. In the end, I was right. But I couldn't have Superman knowing what I was doing, he didn't know about the plan for the towers." That could only mean Rao Towers, the big renewable energy project Tess had been planning in the centre of Metropolis. The whole edifice had come down in an accidental explosion scant hours after it had been put into operation. While no lives had been lost, the massive loss had badly destabilised Tess' position at LutherCorps. Once people began to see her days were numbered, they began to feel easier about talking to Lois about her little sideline in human experimentation. Hence the stories she and Clark had worked on that had led to her prison time.

"I take it Superman didn't see eye to eye with the Kandorians." Tess shifted uneasily. "What were they after?"

"I thought they would lead us into a brighter future. But they wanted it to be a whole lot brighter than humans could handle. They weren't like him. They were nothing like him." Tess' expression turned wistful. Lois realised she had real feelings for Clark, and the thought turned her stomach. The idea of this woman admiring him revolted her. But Tess wasn't a caricature, she responded to the innate goodness in him as much as the rest of the world. She was just an incredibly dangerous and manipulative killer on top of that.

The whole picture still made no sense though. _If _these aliens were still hiding out somewhere, then why would they be killing their foe's enemies? Unless it was all a cover for something else. "Then the Kandorians are behind this whole…"

"No, they're all dead. The major saw to that. Their leader. Major Zod. Dead with the rest of theml." Tess let a small whimper escape her lips as she adjusted her position. Her arms were starting to shake with the exertion of keeping her body upright. Lois was totally confused now. If they were all dead, then how could they have read her stories on Tess mining the meteor rock in Smallville? The timeline was all wrong. The towers had gone down, Superman had appeared and the stories had begun to run. Who would be trying to wipe her out now?

"So you plotted with this Major against Superman?"

"No," Tess hissed. "I would never hurt him! Zod said he thought he could be won over to our side, once he saw the plan come together. But…" her breathing was becoming more ragged. "But I was blind."

"We need to leave," Oliver murmured at her shoulder.

"Hold on. I just need a few more moments. Tess, who's after you then, I don't understand!"

"Someone is still following Zod. And I betrayed him."

"But then why are they writing the messages about…" Lois' mind ran back over the messages. Tess' message had read, 'He will rise again'. She'd assumed that was about Clark's disappearance. But there was an alternative.

"What are you talking about?" Tess snapped. She clamped her teeth together as more pain caught up with her.

"They're not about Superman, are they?" Lois said, her heart sinking. She had been so, so wrong. "They're about someone else. Who?"

"He will rise again," Tess smiled cruelly.

"Zod."


	26. Chapter 26

Clark had been doing one of his favourite things when he received the call that precipitated the end of the Kandorians; listening to Lois Lane murmuring positively indecent ideas in his ear. As much as he loved the sound of her voice, he also loved to distract her so thoroughly that she couldn't string a cogent sentence together. This was his best defence against her because Lois' idea of taking it slow he realised, was slow, exquisite torture. It was the most enjoyable kind of war of attrition.

"Lois…I should…I should answer that…"

"Ignore it Smallville, I'm making you an offer you can't refuse," and to reinforce her point she ran a hand up the inside of his leg. He moved back on the sofa, reaching inside his jeans pocket for his phone before she made it impossible for him to break away. Lois glared at him as he answered the call, clearly unimpressed he'd been able to resist her.

"Clark, you need to get down to the Met Gen mortuary now." It was Chloe.

Clark mouthed 'office' to Lois who rolled her eyes and reached for the bowl of popcorn in front of her. She decided to ignore him and turned her attention back to the giant squid on the television, muttering something about the monster being someone who knew how to get busy with his hands.

"I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"Lois updates me every time you leave the room Clark, I know exactly what you're in the middle of. I wouldn't call if it wasn't important. And it has something to do with your cousins from out of town. There's someone down here who want to talk to you."

"Okay, I'll be right over." He put the phone away, making an apologetic face at Lois. She hadn't said anything about it but he knew she was annoyed about his tendency to disappear during their dates. Once things with the Kandorians calmed down he'd be able to make it up to her. He couldn't afford to damage his relationship with her, it was what he'd been waiting for for so long. "I'm sorry, they want me to go back in, they've got a problem with my story."

"Sorry, can't hear you over the sound of screaming civilians being sucked down into the watery depths," she snapped as she turned up the volume. He took hold of her hand.

"I'm sorry. You know I was excited to spend time with you tonight." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She turned her head towards him, her expression softening from annoyance to exasperation. "I'll make it up to you."

"Two words Clark: Rocky Road."

"How about…Back Rub?" She wrinkled her nose, considering the offer.

"Make it Strip Poker and we have a deal." She let out a snort of laughter. "Though given your bluffing abilities, it's going to be a bit one-sided."

"Given the right motivation, you'd be surprised what I can do." He kissed her forehead quickly and headed to the door. Minutes later he was in the sub-basement of Metropolis General. Despite the late hour, he would have expected to meet someone as he left the elevator. But the lights overhead were dimmed and the corridor was deserted. He approached the entrance to the medical examiner's office and when he knocked heard no answer. He pushed against the door and found the room inside dark except for a lamp at a desk. Emil sat there, his head in his hands. Chloe was leaning against the door to the mortuary, her face expressionless. She looked over at him and straightened. Emil didn't move.

"Good, we don't have much more time."

"Where are the staff?"

"Only two of them in tonight, and they're drinking in a bar down the street." His eyes jumped to Emil, who seemed to want no part of the conversation. "Come on."

"You said someone wanted to speak to me?"

"In here." She opened the door the mortuary. It was dark in there as well, with only the light over the closest examining table left on. Despite the dark, Clark could see there was no one in there. There was a quiet muffled knocking that he couldn't place. Chloe closed the door behind them. "He's totally freaked. You think you have all the answers and then…" She trailed off. He noticed then that though her face was blank, her whole body seemed to be jittery.

"Chloe, what's going on?" She jerked her head towards the wall where the refrigerated drawers were. He followed her reluctantly. It wasn't like her to play games like this and her mood was unnerving him. "There's no one here." She smiled jerkily.

"I wouldn't say that." She took hold of the handle on the front of the drawer next to her and pulled hard. Clark knew instantly this was the source of the sound he had heard. Noise coming from the fridge was ludicrous, which was why he had discounted it. But he knew now. As it slid out at a glacial pace he heard the noise more distinctly, free of the muffling effect of the steel. He could also see the source of the noise. The long black bag in front of him was in spasms, knocking against the drawer as it flailed around. He watched in horror as Chloe moved to unzip it.

A man's head burst out through the opening, flailing desperately. Clark could see the tubes running from the corpse's nose, his eyes thankfully taped down. He didn't want to see the eyes. The medical appendages suggested the man had died in surgery but then maybe died wasn't quite right. He wasn't breathing but a dry croaking sound was emerging from between the chapped, blue lips.

"Clark, little help here?" Chloe gasped as she leant over the body, trying to keep it pinned to the drawer. He shook off his shock and moved to the other side of the body, pressing gently down on the chest. The head snapped round to face him, the eyes still closed.

"You." The word didn't register at first, he needed to translate the strangled sounds that the body had produced. "You," he said again. Chloe grimaced and added,

"He started talking an hour ago. One of the guys called Emil and he called me. He was asking for you Clark. But not by your human name. The other one." Clark frowned, there weren't many people in Metropolis who knew his birth name. He thought he knew all of Zod's troops, and this man didn't look like a soldier. His slack skin hung around his jaw in jowls and his temples were greying.

"My name is Kal-El." He wasn't sure what else he could say. An offer of help? He knew the man's heart wasn't beating. Whatever was sustaining him was something he hadn't encountered before. He felt utterly powerless and despite himself he felt repulsed. His senses all told him this man was dead. Yet he wasn't.

"You."

"Emil checked. He has brainwaves but they're not normal brainwaves," Chloe said quietly. "His cells are decaying. He's not breathing. I don't know what this is."

"You…you."

"I'm here. What do you need?"

"You can set me free," the man rasped.

"Okay. How?"

"Find me. Find me."

"You're in Metropolis General, the hospital." He didn't want to mentioned the refrigerated drawer if he could help it.

"No. Find me. Find me."

"I don't understand. What's your name?"

"Anna. Turner."

* * *

"Are you sure she said Zod?"

"It's not one of those names it's easy to forget Chloe."

"Okay, okay. So Zod is…what, dead, alive? Did she clarify that at all?" Her tone remained sceptical.

"She was doped up to her eyeballs, should we really be taking anything she said as fact?" Oliver interjected

"She was cogent enough to have a conversation Ollie."

"That means she was cogent enough to lie," Chloe reasoned.

"I know Tess is as slippery as a greased up pig but she's not stupid. Someone's gunning for her and she has nowhere to turn. It's not in her interests to protect them. And she always covers her own ass." Lois looked speculatively at the pair of them. "Why are you so desperate for her to be wrong? What's the deal with this Zod?" Chloe looked down at the floor and Oliver cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"There was…a situation."

"Yeah, I figured that, something to do with the towers coming down and a whole bunch of aliens dying. What else do you need for a situation?"

"Look Zod is dead, there's no way back from that. And I don't understand who is left to follow him. All the Kandorians were there that day, they all followed him into the towers. They all fell in line." Oliver rubbed his face, the hours starting to catch up on him and Chloe looked even more beat than he did. She didn't feel it though; a flickering fear was licking at her skin, and every time she felt like she might start to drift into exhaustion it gave her a taste of the pain that wanted to consume her. She had to keep going. If she stopped, she might start to count up the minutes since Clark had been taken.

"So you're ruling it out on the grounds it's impossible," Lois scoffed. "Clark is a freaking cow-milking, hay-tossing, eye-lasering space alien okay? Nothing is impossible." She turned away for a moment as Chloe and Oliver discussed Tess. She just needed a moment to remember the thing she knew was important. It had been trying to nudge its way into her mind ever since she'd been pulled back into the chopper by the crazy in the black mask. Zod and the Kandorians had been taken off the board so what would it take to put them back on to it? What had she heard that meant…

When the dead rise out of their graves. How could she have forgotten Tom Jordan? He _had_ spoken the truth that night he died. The dead had risen out of their graves, or one corpse in particular. Little Anna Turner. The girl who Styson had murdered.

"It's her, it's got to be her," she murmured. Rationally, there wasn't enough to connect them. But her instincts bubbled up from somewhere too deep for logic. She felt them, and that was enough truth. A little more gut feeling and a little less thinking might have helped with her two-sided love triangle as well. Though maybe her gut wasn't really the body part she should have been feeling.

But regrets had to wait. Right now, she just had to find a corpse, locate Clark and sort out some kind of alien conspiracy. Then the dating problems.

"Look up anything you might have on Anna Turner," she hurried up to one of Chloe's computer stations and gestured for her to begin her magic. "Come on, inspiration has struck!" Chloe's face had frozen, her features pinched as if Lois had just slapped her.

"Lois…" Oliver was looking at her cousin though, rather than her. He seemed scared of what the blonde woman was going to do next. He moved half a step closer towards her, his hands moving slightly away from his sides and then moving back down. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course I don't because you've been lying to me for years!" She shouted at them both. The words seemed to jolt them out of their paralysis. "Just thought that needed to be pointed out," she continued in a calmer voice. "I'm the weak link in the chain because you chose to let me be that. If I'm talking out of my ass, then illuminate me. Please." Her tone didn't make that sound like a request.

"Anna Turner was part of the…situation two years ago."

"Right, because someone dug up her corpse and her mom's." They both looked at her in surprise. "And they did it again three months ago. The guy at the cemetary told me about it. Cops wanted to know if Jordan and Weathers had made off with her coffin."

"No. No, they can't have," Chloe seemed stunned, her words coming out almost slurred. "I would have known. I would have…" Her eyes jumped to the metal box across the room. Lois didn't have the patience right now to try and understand what _that_ might be about.

"Started seeing ghosts? Is that what's causing these hallucinations in Smallville, this girl's body? Was she some kind of meteor-infected ghost whisperer or what?"

"Chloe…tell her." Oliver's words were firm but the expression on his face was gentle, tender even. Chloe gave a small nod. She proceeded to give her a sketch of the events two years ago, her words spoken so plainly and matter of factly that Lois knew she was leaving things out.

They were still lying to her.

Maybe it was simply for expediency's sake. They could spend months filling her in on everything she didn't know. But she was certain that wasn't the only reason she was being kept in the dark.

Once Chloe had completed her rundown of Zod and the Turner girl, they'd batted around ideas on what to do next. Chloe was still ripping through government servers trying to find dirt on Senator Shepherd so Lois decided to return to the Planet. Perry had been demanding an explanation of where she was and where the hell Clark was for hours. He was worried.

Oliver volunteered to take her back to the Planet in his chauffeured car and she didn't object. She wasn't sure she should be driving at the moment, after all, as Smallville was so quick to point out, she was a hazard behind the wheel even when she wasn't half out of her mind. Of course he'd say she was always half out of her mind. Thinking of his the customary smirk he wore as he teased her made her laugh out loud. Oliver looked over at her from his seat next to her. Until now, they'd travelled in silence.

"Something funny?"

"Just…it's nothing." Oliver would probably be happy for her to run down Smallville's greatest hits but right now she wanted to keep hold of the memory of a normal, smiling Clark to herself. If she talked about him out loud, maybe they'd look at her as if to say, 'stop kidding yourself Lane'. Rationally she knew there was a good chance he'd been killed and rationally she knew even a suggestion of that would incapacitate her. She needed to keep going. "I have some questions about this Anna Turner situation." Oliver sighed, looking less than keen to return to the subject. The story wasn't a particularly happy one to begin with.

The meteor strike on the Turner house had granted both Styson and Anna abilities. Styson's, she was all too familiar with. But Anna's was something entirely new. The Turner family had always had a reputation as being different, Chloe had explained. They kept to themselves, with Anna being taught at home. The women supported themselves as the family had for generations, by acting as spiritual advisors. Mediums. Though the town dismissed them as frauds, the fact that they were able to pay their way said there were plenty of believers.

Once her mother died, Anna had continued the business. If she'd had a skill before she the meteor hit her, then she definitely had one after, and it made itself known just as the local coroner had started up with the bone saw.

Chloe had thankfully not shown her the video clip she'd uncovered but a verbal description of it was enough. Anna Turner's body was dead but her mind, her soul, was still attached. She was stuck between life and death. And that didn't make for a happy Y incision

The Smallville coroner back then had been in the LutherCorps pocket so Anna's body had disappeared into the bowels of the company's research labs. Her coffin was buried with no one inside. While Lionel and Lex were pouring their energies into developing weapons, a team of scientists had been working on Anna. Sometimes with, if they could get her to co-operate. They eventually learnt how to communicate with her and discovered ways to augment her abilities. But after Tess had started running the show, the project had been mothballed.

Anna had been shut up in a freezer for almost a year, always drawn back to her physical remains, never able to break free. Until the Kandorians had come.

They'd raided LutherCorps' decades of cutting-edge research as part of their quest for their powers, and in the course of their search, they'd uncovered the girl. Unlike the Luthors, the aliens had seen the potential she offered. Because there was one Kryptonian mind who was sure to be able to help them with their problem. A man who had lived and died on Earth, a scientist called Dax-Ur. He'd spent his years on the planet learning about the effect this sun had on Kryptonian minerals and Kryptonian biology. Which made him the perfect person for Zod to interrogate about how they could transform this sun's radiation to grant them their powers.

"I get what happened. Zod uses Anna to hook him up with the know-how on how to get their powers back. The towers go up, and then everything goes to hell. You kind of glossed over that part." She fixed him with a glare. "You don't seem to get it, I can't find Clark if I don't know what went down last time. I need to know what Zod's deal is. What's this about?" That's when she realised. Once Oliver fell in love, he fell for good. Chloe was the one he was trying to shield and whatever had happened, it was so bad that it had caused the depression she had glimpsed on their holiday together. She had talked about the dead the same way Weathers had. The same person had been at the root of their bleak despair; Anna had been part of something ugly back then and she was part of something ugly in Smallville right now.

That also fit with her earlier suspicions about Chloe's behaviour because whatever had caused it, it must have happened fast. She'd been tied up with Clark and work before the towers went down but she couldn't believe she wouldn't have noticed Chloe in such a dark place.

But then they hid things from her. Davis was clearly a whole different story now. The Luthors, Lana, Clark's parents. She'd been watching the film on an old black and white T.V. while they'd been

Oliver was looking out of the window, his shoulders tight.

"Whatever happened, she's family. And he's Clark," she said in a low voice. "That's all that matters." Oliver nodded once.

"You're right. You don't know what it was like hearing Tess say that name and then you mentioned Anna Turner. I didn't want to ever think about that time again if I could help it."

"The timeline doesn't fit," she pressed. "Those towers came down two days before Anna's coffin and her mom's body were dug up. I checked with the groundsman before we left. How could the Kandorians have done that? You said it was a bribe, to make her co-operate. If she did what was asked, she got her final resting place. But who was left to bribe her?" He dipped his head and in that gesture she saw the truth, the very ugly truth.

"Chloe…Chloe stole Anna Turner's body."


	27. Chapter 27

There wasn't one big moment when he decided to lie to Lois about being Superman. Nothing that big, nothing that all-encompassing happened overnight. It was a series of moments. A series of steps, from his barn all the way to the Planet and Metropolis.

Confronting Chloe in the lead lined container with Anna Turner's body was one of those moments. He had known her for so long, and seen her weather so many troubles, that he hadn't ever expected she would be the one to buckle. And afterwards he had wondered, if such a kind, decent woman, a woman who gave so much of herself could be brought to this by the world they occupied, what might it do to Lois? Because when he opened that tin can and saw her sitting next to the refrigerated unit, he hadn't recognised the woman in front of him.

He'd irrationally compared her with the girl who had kissed him in his loft. That girl was so honest it almost hurt and this woman couldn't be the same person. But the steps that led her down to this dark place were traceable back to that loft. When she had become part of his life, she had followed this path, all the way into the chill of the lead box. She had lost Jimmy. She had found Anna. She had tried to find Jimmy again.

After Anna had reached out and taken possession of the fresh corpse in the mortuary, they'd been able to locate her body in the old meat-packing district. A large container unit lined in lead contained another, smaller, lead-lined box, cooled to the point of freezing, and holding the battered corpse of the young woman. The lead was designed by the Kandorians to conceal her from his prying eyes and it also shielded the Kyrptonite that was bonded to her bones from the meteor strike and the further rock pumped through her dessicated blood vessels. She had told them all about that. And about Dax-Ur, about Zod, and what the Kandorians knew would happen to his powers once the towers fired up. Her story of how she had been stolen by LutherCorps and kept prisoner by their experiments for years had made the encounter one had had wanted to forget. Chloe had thought she had a handle on every meta-human to ever emerge from Smallville and she'd seemed curiously excited when discussing the woman's history. She'd had so many questions for the girl, what were her abilities, how did the Kyrptonite in her system augment her powers, how had she jumped into the dead man's body?

He should have been suspicious then but instead he thought her ability to look past the terrifying idea of being trapped in a decaying corpse was an example of her impressive compassion. But Chloe had been thinking big picture. After all, if Anna could help the Kandorians almost take over the planet, and then help them prevent that, what else could she do for them?

After Anna had told him what they needed to know he had promised her that they would return her to her coffin in the Smallville cemetery, next to her mother. The girl had spoken in broken sentences about her desire to finally rest in the ground, in the coffin she had picked out before her death, the one that even then was waiting for her under the earth. She was sure that if she could just be left alone to lie in the dark, she would finally be able to escape her body. All she wanted was to rest and he had sworn she could do that.

Chloe had told him she would take care of it as he dealt with the Kandorians. Had she intended to break her promise even then? Her desire for knowledge, for control, had escalated rapidly since she'd become Watchtower. She'd always argued him down by throwing his mistakes in his face and back then he'd been making a lot of mistakes. Doomsday was still raw. But her problem was bigger than he'd wanted to face. After he'd found her and Anna, he'd been able to see the origins of this desire to _know _in the Wall of Weird, her attempt to map the madness of Smallville since the meteors. Or since her mom had left her.

Because although he'd assumed that Chloe had taken Anna hostage, even Mrs Tuner's body hostage, because she wanted access to the knowledge of the dead, it wasn't really about that. It wasn't about tapping into some new resource. It was about just one person.

Oliver had known but Clark hadn't believed him. Hadn't wanted to see how Jimmy's loss was still shrouding her small shoulders. He'd started to understand better when he'd seen her face.

She looked sicker than he'd ever seen her. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair lank and grey. She was wrapped in layers to fight the cold of the freezer beside her but her skin was cast with a flat, blue colour. It was as if she had caught something of the death surrounding the girl she'd kidnapped. He wondered again that she had found the strength, mentally, to dig two coffins out of the Smallville cemetery, so close to his own Dad. That had made the idea of Chloe doing all this even more unthinkable. How could she disturb the rest of a body so near to his father?

But he had seen the two coffins on his way into the warehouse Chloe had rented. The bribe that would ensure Anna's co-operation. Oliver's face had paled as he'd seen them, his nervous chatter drying up instantly. Neither of them had mentioned it but Clark knew the billionaire was romantically involved with his friend. Queen was the one who had raised the alarm about her behaviour, much to Clark's embarrassment. He was spending so much time with Lois since the towers had exploded, trying to forget the deaths he had witnessed, that he hadn't wondered why Chloe had stopped calling, or why she had told her cousin she was in Star City for work.

It had been Oliver who had told him about the graves in Smallville being dug up. He'd gone out there to see Anna Turner's resting place and discovered she was far from six feet under. Oliver had known, and he hadn't wanted to.

But he couldn't hide from it any more when he'd seen her face.

Her words had only confirmed it.

"You took your time," and her tone was so sour.

"Chloe, you need to stop this," Oliver said. He had pulled his hood down so he could talk in his normal voice and his shock was clear in his uneven tone. Chloe merely turned her face back to the long metal coffin beside her. The that contained the answers to questions she shouldn't be asking.

"No. I don't want you here."

"Please honey, I…"

"I don't want you Oliver. Don't you get that?" He flinched. Clark stepped closer to the threshold of the box. Chloe fixed him with a glare. "You know how much Kyrptonite is being pumped through her? I flick one switch and it's out of its shielding." He tried to harden himself to her threats. Whatever was happening to Chloe right now, she didn't, couldn't mean the things she was saying. She was ill, he realised.

"You can't do this to her Chloe. You can't do this to yourself." He moved closer. Her hand came up from her side and she placed a long, slim object on the box in front of her. He knew it instantly. One of the Kryptonite daggers she had made as an insurance against the Kandorians. Part of the weapons cache the aliens had found and that Zod had used to convince them that humans would never accept them.

When he had gone to the towers to try and talk the Kandorians round, Zod had thrown the evidence of human duplicity in his face. He hadn't known that Oliver and Chloe had been stockpiling them. He'd been aware that they didn't seem to share his confidence that the aliens could be convinced to settle as humans but he hadn't realised how far their mistrust had gone. It was a painful revelation, made even more painful when Zod had stuck one of the knives in his side.

It was unlikely to be the same blade but the hurt it caused felt almost as raw.

He tried to gather his thoughts. Talking Chloe down was the most important thing. He needed to wake her up to what she was doing.

"We promised her that we would bury her next to her mom." She continued to ignore him, the weapon beside her all the reply she needed to make. "We both promised her. She's suffered so much already." Her hand twitched next to the knife. He tried to move forward an almost imperceptible distance. "We haven't heard from you in days and then we find out you've dug up her coffin, you've taken her mother's body…has she done what you asked? Have you got what you wanted from her?" Her hand tightened. "Will you let her go now?"

"I am sick of your smug self-righteousness," she whispered, the words almost too low for him to catch with his normal hearing. "You fly above everyone, congratulating yourself on how noble you are. Denying yourself so you can save everyone." She turned to stare at him, the knife still close at hand. "You think you're the only person you're hurting but you're lying to Lois and you lie to me!"

"I'm not lying to you Chloe."

"You couldn't save Jimmy and you couldn't save me! That was the lie!" She yelled at him. "He died and you walked away from me, after everything I've given up for you! When I really needed you, all you could think about was yourself. You only came back for her, not for me, never for me." It wasn't that distorted a version of the facts. He'd been unable to prevent the devastation Davies had caused, he'd abandoned her when she needed him and he had returned because Lois had drawn him back to his senses. But he'd hoped she'd been able to forgive him for those things, as big an ask as that was.

He was about to reply when it clicked that it wasn't him she hadn't forgiven. It was herself.

Unfortunately that didn't stop her drawing the knife out of its lead sheath as he stepped towards her. Though it wouldn't have been enough to cause him much trouble once, now it felt like he'd swallowed a Kryptonite brick. He stumbled against the door of the box and slid to the ground. Emil had speculated that the extended exposure during the water poisoning would increase his sensitivity. Coupled with the Kryptonite gas Tess has released in the towers as her 'insurance policy' against the Kandorians, and the knife he'd been almost gutted with, it looked like he was more vulnerable to the radiation than ever.

After this assessment his thoughts seemed to thicken to tar as he breathed short, shallow breaths. He could hear Oliver arguing with Chloe but all he could concentrate on was the burning feeling eating him up. His thoughts began to spiral out, as if in an attempt to escape the pain.

Why had everything gone so wrong? The Kandorians were all dead, and with them the last real chance of Krypton ever surviving. He had promised they could find a life on earth and they had only encountered betrayal and pain. Tess had released the deadly gas as a last ditch attempt to prevent them gaining their powers at the cost of his own. But he would gladly have relinquished them if it had meant Zod didn't activate the satellites above and incinerate his own people. The radiation was meant to revive them, make them invincible, but the combination of the Krytonite flooding their systems and the distorted power of the sun had burned them alive.

When the screams had died away, only he and an old, broken woman had remained in the generator room. But that figure had been Tess, her hair turned grey with the drifting debris of the army of Kandor, brought to her knees by the result of her gamble.

He'd thought that that would be the end of the horror. But now here he was, with the bodies of three women around him, two dead and one a shell filled up with all the rage and loathing he'd wanted to deny. He was glad Lois wasn't here to see them all come to this. Mistake after terrible mistake, as they blundered their way through decisions. They were getting too much wrong.

There was a quick flurry of movement and Chloe dropped, knocking her head on the box next to her as she pooled to the floor. Oliver crossed his path of vision and bent down. The worst of the pain was shut off and he sucked in a deep lungful of air. His strength returning to his limbs, he gingerly got to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall. Oliver was brushing the hair away from Chloe's face and murmuring things to her. Things he had no place to hear.

The dart in her neck was still dug into her skin from where Oliver had fired it at her. He quickly checked her skull for any damage. There was no blood swelling under the skin and no cracks in the bone. Still, they would have to take her to hospital. And after…Chloe was in so deep a hole he wasn't sure how to help her out of it.

He stumbled over to the computer against the back wall and looked at the messages across the screen. As well as a window that controlled the level of meteor rock being flooded through Anna's body, there was one that allowed someone to communicate with her. It was the system the LutherCorps team had spent years perfecting. The 'operator' would type in messages and Anna's replies would appear. The computer could translate her thoughts and turn them into words. Chloe had been fascinated by how technology being trialled with patients who were severely paralysed could work with the dead girl and had wanted to open up the box Anna was sealed into to find out more about the interaction between machine and cadaver. Until Oliver had reminded her that the woman was probably quite sick of people treating her body as a project for the science fair. Chloe never used to have be reminded of things like that.

There wasn't a conversation on the screen though. It was all messages typed by the operator. He looked down the page and felt grief rise up inside him.

Operator: I need to see him again.

Operator: We had a deal, bring him back or you'll be eternally resting in this box.

Operator: Don't you want to be buried? Your mom is right outside. This can all be over if you just do as I ask.

Operator: Please let me see him again. I need

Operator: I need to see him again. Let me see him one more time. I can explain everything.

Operator: Jimmy, please come back.

Operator: Jimmy, you can't mean those things you said. You told me you loved me. I love you. Come back.

Operator: Don't leave me here. I can't stand being here anymore. Don't leave me like this.

Operator: Bring my husband back. do it now or I swear you'll never be free.

Operator: He didn't mean what he said he can't have because I know he loved me

Operator: You must have loved me

Operator: did you ever love me

Operator: come back

Operator: please dont leave me

"What happened to her?" Oliver rasped, cradling Chloe in his arms.

How to explain the steps that led from his barn, through Smallville and into a world of Braniac and Doomsday. Perhaps every fact she tracked down and slotted in its correct place was another step closer to understanding why she was alone. Why her mom had left, why Jimmy had left. Maybe it was insurance against it happening again. She had been skating closer and closer to the edge, seeing no boundaries to what she had to know, to what she could know. And now she'd been presented with something too powerful to resist. But despite every line she had crossed with Anna Turner, she hadn't got the answers she'd wanted. Instead it had broken her.

"What happened to her?" Oliver repeated, the dart held tight between the tips of his fingers.

"We didn't save her."


	28. Chapter 28

"Did the kid ever tell you how we first met?" Perry asked, his hands wrapped around a glass of water. He was looking at it like he wished there was something harder on offer. Lois shook her head. Perry had caught her up on what he'd discovered about Senator Shepherd and she wanted to jump out of the chair in his office and go call Chloe. But her boss clearly had something he needed to get off his chest.

He liked Clark, she knew. That was a common story, the man inspired affection and admiration in most people who got to know him. The kind of people who were prepared to overlook his quirkier aspects. Like zero taste in music, a tendency to slip into his Smallville uniform (red and blue, great catch Lois) when he was off the clock, and his terrible attendance record.

"He saved my life," the editor continued, with a kind of wonder on his face.

And that was a common story. How many times had he saved her life when he was Superman? And how many before that? She had no idea of how many lives he had changed, the man who sat across the desk from her.

"I'd thought…well, you'd laugh Lane. My fuzzy navel years. And when I saw his hands covered with blood…"

"Blood?" This sounded like another occasion when Clark had been without his powers. More importantly, an occasion he'd survived. Oliver and Chloe had explained there were various ways to disable his abilities and it wasn't too hard to remember times when Clark had been injured like a normal man. If she had her way, Smallville wasn't going within twenty miles of Smallville ever again, the place was too dangerous for him. And he seemed just as keen to risk his life when he vulnerable as when he was Superman.

Was he putting himself in danger now? Was he fighting whoever held him? Was he afraid?

"Lois, I'm sorry, I…"

"It's okay," she put up a stalling hand as she bent over her knees, trying to breathe through the urge to throw up. She realised she hadn't eaten in a long time. She usually couldn't go five minutes without reaching for a snack and now the idea of food left her cold.

Perry was standing by her side, helplessly.

"I'll get someone."

"No chief." She raised her head and gave him a weak smile. "I'm fine, see? I need to get going. I've got things to chase down." She stood up abruptly. "I'm going to find Clark and we'll write a great story about it and everything will be fine."

"Lois, I think you should…"

"Chief, don't tell me to go home, okay? I'll go crazy at home." She paused and decided to amend that. "Crazier, at home." He stared at her for a moment. If he wanted to, Perry could make things more difficult to her. She needed the Planet resources, and she needed anything he dug up to come to her. It wouldn't stop her but it might slow her down. Clark couldn't afford delays. "You know I need to work. You understand that." He nodded, grudgingly.

"I do." She smiled at him briefly and left the office. As soon as she was out of earshot by the elevator, she pulled out her phone. With what Perry had just told her, Shepherd was definitely looking a lot more like their guy. And they had a place to start looking for his dirty secrets as well. She dialled Chloe's number quickly.

"Hey Lo, did you find anything?"

"The General is digging around to see if he can find out anything more about Shepherd's service. All my guys on the hill are saying the same thing, Shepherd is going off the reservation. Rumours about drinking, maybe some kind of breakdown in the last eighteen months. He's bounced back but he's pretty much ruled himself out of ever getting offered anything bigger by the party. Juicy enough right? But Perry's just finished telling me something even tastier."

"Like?"

"Like the guy has always picked some pretty interesting committees to sit on? And that's not the end of it. He likes getting involved in pretty hush-hush stuff, cleaning up at Belle Reeve's one little sideline we know about. But get this, the guy's also into overseeing military spending reviews. He's seen as a safe pair of hands because he's a decorated war hero, ergo he can slash spending and the chiefs can't trash him. Six months ago a certain project that the army had outsourced got pulled into the light of day. A project that had been resurrected from the ashes of some corporate operation."

"And?" Lois jabbed the button for the elevator, her pulse racing again as she unfolded the facts for her cousin. This felt like something big.

"Initially Shepherd's dead set against it, says the work is going nowhere. Then towards the end of the review he does a complete 180, backs it to the hilt. Even gets more funding for it. His whole reputation is riding on this lab cooking up something special according to Perry's guy. The thing's all about a possible end to the threat of biological weapons being used against troops on the front line. One jab and you're immune to everything."

"Lois, Lex had a project like that once. But that was…that was really about Zod." Lois frowned, she'd thought it sounded good but she wasn't expecting a possible link like that. Especially one that didn't make any sense. Lex had died before Tess had brought the bad genie Zod out of the alien lamp.

"Let me know if we need to print a retraction because the headlines said Lex died a few years ago. Is the bad bald billionaire still around?"

"It's kind of complicated but Zod…another version of Zod, was here on Earth before. His agent tricked Lex into developing what was supposed to be a super-vaccine but was actually a way of transforming Lex so he was ready for Zod to possess. Which included giving a human Lex full Kryptonian powers."

"So doing the switcheroo on Superman could have been Plan B." Lois stepped into the car, relieved to see it was empty. "Thing is, Perry's source had something even sweeter up his sleeve. The project got moved up to Alaska after the review. Some facility they have up there."

"Could be Station 57." Lois laughed. "What?"

"Just the fact you know every secret military research site in the country off the top of your head." She smiled genuinely for what felt like the first time in days. Then felt immediately guilty. Clark was god knows where having god knows what done to him and she had a ridiculous grin on her face like all was right with the world. But guilt was a distraction as well. So she needed to do better and make less mistakes, then she would. She had to be the person Clark needed right now. "You think this sounds like something?"

"I think it sounds like something. Let me zoom in on what's going on up there." The sound of clattering keys began in the background. "I'll keep you updated."

"Chloe, before you go…" There wasn't a good time to say this, so she might as well tack it on to the end of the conversation. "Oliver told me what happened with Anna." The keys fell silent. "And it's not freaking me out, okay? Okay, yeah, I feel bad about what you went through and that I wasn't able to help you more but I'm not freaked about you being ill or whatever happened back then."

"I was…I was out of control then. But I'm fine now. You don't need to worry about me."

"Since I have seniority over you, I am always going to worry about you cuz," she said. There wasn't an easy way to mention this either but it had to be said. She wasn't going to shirk away from saying this to Chloe just because it was uncomfortable. Just because Oliver and Clark had taken their eyes off the ball when it came to her cousin didn't mean she was going to let things go un-dealt with. "But I know things are tough for you right now. I know that big box in Watchtower was the one from before. You dug it out of storage for a reason. Now I know it's not because you've got something to hide in there." It was still quiet on the other end. "I think it's about punishing yourself." She paused, waiting for her cousin to deny it. But she heard nothing but light breathing. "Whenever you want to talk about it, I'm here. Whatever you need." There was a deep indrawn breath.

"Thanks Lois."

"That's what I'm here for." The words, 'one save at a time' almost tripped off her tongue before she remembered their significance. Once she had told Clark the same thing. Maybe she hadn't meant it quite then; they were only just becoming friends. But now, it was her _job_ to save him.

Except she had no idea where to turn next. Chloe was handling the super-secret lab, Perry was trying to get some more juice out of D.C. contacts and the rest of the world was obsessing over Chinese terrorists and if Superman was missing or worse. So, what was she handling? She found her desk, surprised that it appeared as if she and Clark had only just stepped away. His pens and papers were neatly arranged on his desktop as ever, and the mug she had bought him with the tractor on it was sitting in the corner, clean of course. Clark never left the dregs of his coffee lying around. He could sit down at any minute and carry on with his work. The world didn't seem to be aware that he was gone at all. After all, there was no time to spare for a possibly missing journalist when the Man of Steel was in trouble. Everyone in the office, though they were worried about him, couldn't afford to expend energy on their colleague. They'd stopped her in the corridor and asked if she had any news and what could they do to help but really, there wasn't space for Superman _and_ Clark Kent.

She looked over at his empty seat and sighed. Sometimes she could almost forgive the guy for having problems dealing with his double identity. Double identities sucked worse than time travel.

She drummed her fingers on the desk. If she didn't work out what she had to do next, her thoughts would begin to slow. If she slowed down, she'd start to think about the reality of the situation. Keeping herself constantly moving was the only way she could keep ugly ideas at a distance.

She looked down at her notepad. There was an ugly scrawl of names with arrows and question marks littered liberally across the page. Eric Summers, Carl Weathers, Tom Jordan, Anna Turner, Tess Mercer, Senator Shepherd and on and on. Right now all her gut was telling her was that she felt sick.

That was when the call came. Ten minutes later she was on the road, driving towards Smallville. As soon as she headed out of Metropolis, her instincts started to kick in again. She knew this was right, regardless of how weird and uneasy the whole thing was. Unfortunately, Chloe was rather focussed on the weird and uneasy part when she informed her of her break two hours into her drive.

"Lois, I don't care what he said, the man is dangerous!"

"And what am I supposed to do while the rest of the super-club fly up to Alaska?" An hour after they'd discussed Station 57, Chloe had managed to determine the facility seemed open for business. And after co-opting a government satellite, she also knew that Senator Shepherd's car was parked outside. While cracking the computers was going to take a little longer, Watchtower felt they had enough to move in on Shepherd. Wheels had gone up ten minutes ago. Lois felt curiously undivided. She understood that Alaska and Shepherd made a lot of sense. But this call and this place felt more important. She knew what Clark would tell her to do, trust herself.

Well, actually, he would tell her never to go out there by herself, lecture her for half an hour, and then insist on coming with her.

But he'd got himself kidnapped, so she was going by herself. She'd lived without Clark Kent every day of life until she met him, yet he'd made it so that the last twenty-four hours were some of the hardest of her life.

"I know you feel frustrated but this is not…"

"Well, this whole conversation is pretty redundant anyway because I'm here." Lois parked to the side of the road and looked up ahead. The concrete monolith of Belle Reeve seemed to make everything around it grey and flat. It was the happiest place to meet anyone, let alone a man who made her skin crawl and who she was pretty sure loathed her.

Chloe sighed down the phone at her. Clark would have twigged sooner that she was already almost there. She pulled that kind of thing on him all the time. God she missed him. She covered her mouth quickly, lest a small sob slip out. She needed to be on top of her game to handle this guy. And Chloe needed to hear that she could handle herself.

"This is such a bad idea," Chloe moaned.

"And this is me you're talking to. I take a bad idea, and I make it badass. Just because I don't have Clark covering me doesn't mean I'm going to end up chopped up and tossed in a dumpster." She pulled the keys out of the ignition. "Probably."

"You said he sounded weird on the phone. The man's already certifiable Lois. And why the hell would he want you to meet him outside a Sanitarium? If the Feds have pulled the cops off him, then he's free to pursue his own sick agenda again. And we don't know that that doesn't include murder. The Zod information doesn't rule his involvement out." Lois scanned the road around her and got out. There was no traffic, and no movement at the gate up ahead. Chloe was pointing out things she was already well aware of. The guy had said he knew where Kal-El was and was very emphatic about meeting her but Lois had downplayed it to her cousin. The man hadn't sounded weird, he'd sounded totally whacked out. Disjointed sentences, repeating himself. If she had any more space for fear in her heart right now, she would have been scared about this assignation.

At least she had a whole building full of people who liked tasering people fixated with Superman close at hand.

"I can't see him," she whispered, the hush around her making her lower her voice. "I'm going to see if I can raise him. Call you back yeah?" She hung up on her cousin and dialled the number she'd got off her office phone earlier. All she heard was ringing. She groaned, hung up, and tried again. Still no answer. She began to wander further up the road. The guards hadn't stuck their heads out of the guard station yet to find out what she was up to. That seemed a little strange. In fact, that gave her uncomfortable déjà vu-like feelings.

She tried his phone again, wondering if he'd bailed on her.

That's when she heard the ringing coming from her phone echoed somewhere else. She pulled her cell away from her ear and tried to locate it. The concrete box up ahead looked like the source. She walked slowly towards the guardhouse. The gate was closed but the door on her side of the electrified fence stood ajar. She couldn't see inside the building yet but a sweet, acrid smell hit the back of her throat and told her she wasn't going to like what she found.

She pulled her pepper spray out of her pocket and flipped open her cell with the other hand. Fortunately she had the Smallville PD on speed dial, so she kept her thumb poised over the call button as she edged towards the open door.

In the far corner was a bank of screens showing video feeds from around the perimeter of the fence. The back of her head was visible in one shot as she peered into the room. The pictures jumped between different locations but none showered any signs of guards or staff. Three walkie-talkies crackled with static on the desk. To her left was a large metal locker. Blood was pooled on the floor in front of it. The cell phone she'd been calling lay in the smeared, sticky puddle, the screen still lit up with her missed call. She had a feeling she knew where her appointment was. Edging forward she leant over the blood, careful not to touch it with her shoes, and nudged open the door of the locker. It swung forward and she jumped back automatically.

Frank Charter's body was folded into an awkward shape in the locker. His eyes were in a fixed stare, blood from the wound in his head coating his face and neck. The body shifted suddenly, tipping towards her but thankfully still remaining inside the cupboard. After the corpse had stilled though she noticed something alarming; though his hand had moved, it was still stuck in the same, partially clawed position.

Rigor mortis. And that usually happened a few hours after death. And in fact his whole body was rigid. Pretty serious rigor. Maybe more than two hours.

And his strange voice on the phone…

Was it possible he'd already been dead by the time she got that call? If Frank Charter hadn't called her, who had? That would mean she was conveniently walked into a trap just because they had whispered the name Kal-El in her ear. Say the magic word and she would do any stupid thing you could imagine. Except the word wasn't Superman anymore, it was Clark Kent. That made it different.

Living in the shadow of Superman was a future she had baulked at. How could any woman ever compete with the rest of the world? But having Clark Kent pull her strings was a separate proposition. Smallville was…he was…

Still missing. And all she had discovered was more death. She shut the door so she didn't have to look at the man anymore. It was hard to feel bad about his death; even if she hadn't felt almost numbed by fear she would have struggled to work up much grief. Charter had manipulated vulnerable people into killing themselves and perverted what Clark stood for to satisfy his own sick urges. She was more concerned about where his killer might be. Hopefully long gone but the absence of the guards in the room and the static coming from the walkie-talkies wasn't exactly putting her at ease. She was picking up a serious Marie Celeste vibe.

She connected the call to the Smallville cops and held the cell to her ear. Once they arrived they'd try to shut her out of any investigation, especially since she still wasn't their favourite person, but if this had something to do with Zod and Clark, then nothing was going to keep her out. They'd just have to make room for her.

The call didn't connect though. She tried again, this time getting only a dead tone. Her reception seemed okay. She fished a napkin out of her purse, thinking the cops might like her better if she didn't mess up their crime scene more than she already had, and picked up the phone on the wall, dialling for an outside line. There was the dead dial tone again.

That most definitely wasn't good.

She definitely didn't want to go into the sanitarium and ask to borrow their phone. Hell, she wasn't crazy. No, she was going to be heading back to her car pronto. She glanced over at the building and saw something by the entrance. There was a woman standing with her back towards her.

A blonde woman, standing motionless. Long hair, jeans, a floral blouse. However out of place, it could be any woman, any woman at all. And from this distance and from behind, it would be hard to say, definitely, who it could be.

Her breath withered away in her lungs and a crushing weight replaced it.

There was no way that could be her.

The woman moved; her face turned to look over her shoulder, straight through the window towards Lois in the guard station. Then she walked through the double glass doors into Belle Reeve but with the sun hitting the glass Lois couldn't see inside the building. It was as if she had disappeared.

Before she was conscious of making the decision, she burst out of the other door and was running flat out across the concrete. She burst through the doors and found herself in the crushingly empty reception area. There was no one behind the main desk, no one sitting in the waiting area. No guards at the thick steel doors that led from the administrative block to the hospital and prison blocks. Every door around her seemed firmly shut.

"Mom?" She called, her voice higher and quieter than she had heard in years. "Mom?" It couldn't be her. It had to be a hallucination brought on by fear and pain and exhaustion. Jordan had said the patients had been acting crazier than normal, that he and Raul had started to see ghosts when they were awake. And she knew Anna Turner had to have something to do with that.

But it didn't feel like something to do with some meteor-infected phenomenon. That made it seem like it was some random occurrence, some element in a bigger picture. No, this _was_ the big picture, the main event. It had to be. After all, she had just seen her mom. Like she had come back for her. If she had come back to see her though, where was she now?

"Mommy?" Her voice broke on the word and she turned around desperately, not knowing where to start. All fear of this place was gone now. All that mattered was catching sight of her again. Up close. Maybe talk to her even. How often had she imagined the conversations they might have had? In her dreams every talk was filled with the love that had been snatched from her so long ago. Every word of her mother's was understanding, unquestioningly supportive. The sound of her voice was a lost memory to her now, she only had the idea of her voice. Something deep, warm. She would risk anything to hear that sound again.

Instead she heard a shotgun.

It came from outside. She pressed herself against the wall near the entrance and peered round the corner. A man was lying on the ground near the guard house she'd been standing in minutes earlier. Three people stood over him. Sheriff Adams, a shotgun in her hand. She nudged the body with her foot and made a disgusted face. The man next to her was also dressed as a Smallville cop, his service weapon was in his hand. The third person was someone she hadn't seen in many years, and had hoped to never lie eyes on again.

Clad in the pale blue scubs of a Belle Reve inmate, was Tim Westcott, the man who had murdered Clark's ex, Alicia. He wasn't restrained in any way, and the cops' weapons weren't trained on him. The man who the sheriff had just shot was wearing a guard's uniform. Westcott gestured at the body and then at the guardhouse. The two cops nodded and then proceeded to drag the corpse towards the small structure. Adams wasn't in charge, the prisoner was.

She'd been concerned that the rot in the Smallville sheriff's department didn't stop with Karl Weathers but this was on a whole different scale. Adams was not corruptible, Lois would have staked her press badge on that. Regardless of why she was killing people and taking orders from a killer, it didn't change the fact that the cops weren't about to swoop in and rescue her from her trapped in the silent sanitarium situation. Superman also couldn't be counted on to pull her butt out of the fire. What it came down to was the group outside were between her and the only exit she was aware of from Belle Reeve. She was alone.

Except for the ghost of her dead mother.


	29. Chapter 29

"I did try to warn you."

Clark raised his head from the bunk, aware he had company again. The man standing near the cell door was clad in his normal tailored suit, his long hair curling onto his shoulders.

He wanted to reply but found his voice was uncooperative. He gazed listlessly towards the man, wondering if he was expected to reply. Was there a timescale for this? Time seemed a loose concept right now.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been in this room. His internal clock suggested around a day but the drugs that continued to be released through the vents sent him into unconsciousness so regularly that this was his only source of evidence. His head dropped again to the metal ledge they'd granted him. He'd lost his powers plenty of times, even a worrying number of times, but it had happened less and less since he'd started working in Metropolis. Perhaps he'd shaken off a subconscious desire to become normal that had been sabotaging him before.

When he'd been without his abilities, he'd often become seriously hurt but no one had ever drugged him like this. Every thought and feeling was dulled. Even pain seemed at one remove, since he was sure the bruises and cuts covering his body should be hurting a lot more than they were. He wasn't glad he didn't feel the pain. He wasn't much of anything.

If the aim was to rob him of all his capabilities, they were doing a good job of it.

Lionel seemed to be of the same mind. "They've clearly thought through how best to contain you. After all, you've been able to take back your powers before, so why take that chance?" Clark silently agreed. Zod was being very careful but then he had cause to, a power switch was a risky strategy. "You should have seen this coming Kal-El."

Lionel smiled in that infuriating way he often had in life, as if to say, what you don't know could fill the Luthor wing of Metropolis Central Library. The Luthors were obssessed with feeling like they had the upper hand and right now it wasn't hard to argue that Lionel was operating from a superior position. His faculties seemed to be as sharp as ever and apart from being dead, or a delusion, Luthor was in rude health. More than could be said for him.

"You were telling me how this happened. How you failed to address the Anna Turner situation adequately. You knew the aliens had used her once and you couldn't keep her out of Zod's hands a second time. A terrible oversight in retrospect, wouldn't you say? As for leaving her with that Chloe Sullivan…" Lionel pulled an ugly face. "Your judgement needs to be better than this if you're to survive."

Had they been talking earlier? He supposed they must have been. He did remember talking to someone earlier. And there had been a woman as well. A woman in her thirties, called Callie, she said. She had brought him the food that lay untouched on the floor. She had seemed uncomfortable when he tried to ask her questions about Zod. Had just shaken her head and told him to eat.

He should be trying to break out of this place, to find Zod, take his powers back. But he couldn't stand, let alone fight. The idea didn't even hold any attraction. Part of him recognised this was uncharacteristic behaviour but that was all that part could do, observe.

"I didn't know."

He had managed to respond to the man finally.

"Despite being Superman and an investigative reporter, you seem to be in the dark a lot of the time. Perhaps you were better suited to the smaller stage of Smallville."

"Smallville," Clark almost smiled at the word. It conjured up thoughts of something that trickled energy through his leaden limbs. "She calls me that."

"Ah yes, Lois Lane." Lionel walked closer and then appeared to flatten out, until he was like an image on paper. Then his outline appeared to smear into an unrecognisible blur, only to snap back into a shape he did recognise. "She was in the Jordan house _and_ in the cemetary. Who would have thought she would become so interesting. She promised so little."

"You never knew her Lex." Lex smiled in response to his irritation. It was mistake to rise to the bait but he hated it when people wrote Lois off. She was so much more than some people gave her credit for. She had an integrity and a compassion that inspired him. She made every struggle as Superman easier to bear.

"So illuminate me. What makes her so special? Who could possibly usurp Lana in your affections? I'm curious about her."

If Lex had still been alive, he would never have considered telling him. His former friend had always coveted the people he cared about, lusted even after his very blood. If he had known what Lois was to become to him, he would have tried to own her like he had tried to possess everything else he valued. But Lex was just a mirage now and thinking, feeling Lois, seemed to be firing up his mind again.

"I wasted so much time. But she's not…" he was trying to grope for the words to explain her but it was impossible. Words were a blunt tool when it came to her. He wrote every day but he would ever dream of trying to commit everything she was to the page. "She just never stops. I can't break free of her…I don't want to anyway. I thought I'd be a better man if I did. But I was crazy." He thought of the hurt he had caused her through his cowardice. Being Superman was a reality he couldn't alter but he could be a better Clark Kent. He would do whatever it took to deserve her.

So why couldn't he move?

"You really love her, don't you?" Lex sounded surprised.

"How could I do anything else? She's Lois Lane."

"I never had the chance to feel that way about anyone. Because that bastard murdered me in cold blood." Clark frowned. Was he talking about Oliver? Hadn't Lex believed he loved Lana? "If she's half the woman you seem to think she is, then I made the right decision."

"What decision?"

"But there is one other problem." Lex created an apex with his fingers, his mood speculative. "If you feel this way about her, then I presume it's rather obvious." Clark felt like laughing. Obvious to everyone but the woman who he actually cared about. He could hardly blame her, why would a man who loved her keep her at a distance for so many years? "In which case, Zod might have this information. What would he do to her if he finds her?"

Yes, that was a problem. As soon as he had seen Zod in China, he had known Lois was in danger. The Major felt betrayed by him and Tess' actions had only intensified his hatred of humanity. Lois was an inevitable target of his rage.

"The others will protect her." But if they couldn't stop the Kandorian, then what? He needed to find the strength to move off this ledge. If he could take that first step then he could begin to consider the next one and the next, one by one until he got out of here. But no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on his muscles, they refused to contract. A cold flash of fear raced through him. She was in trouble and he couldn't even stand. A choking sound emerged from his lips as he managed to edge one leg off the side of the bunk.

Lex observed his faltering efforts and sneered. "Forget it Kal-El, you're in no condition to fight him. Your best bet now is her." When had Lex ever called him by his Kryptonian name?

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going to do you a favour. You'll get to see your girlfriend again before you die."

* * *

One of the many things she didn't like about Belle Reeve, was the way that only some of the doors opened. She had wanted to investigate the administrative area of the complex, preferring the idea of rifling through computers and paperwork than encountering any of the patients. But those doors had remained stubbornly shut to her. The path to the hospital wing however, remained free and clear. It was paranoid to think that the building was leading her somewhere but it felt that way.

So far she had seen no one else, living or dead, but there were signs everywhere of a violent disturbance. A plastered wall covered in dents and cracks as if something heavy had impacted. An overturned trolley carrying bed linens. A door hanging off its hinges. Perhaps all the people were locked away somewhere she couldn't see or hear them. Sure, or they'd just stepped out to buy some milk, she told herself.

By the time she approached the dining area, she was starting to suspect that the vision of her Mom had been the product of a mind near breaking point. Really, who could be expected to handle _this_ with equanimity? And at least that Word a Day calendar was paying dividends.

She'd been relieved when Clark hadn't made a joke about that purchase. She was a little embarrassed about it, given that words were supposed to be her stock in trade. When he'd seen it on her desk in her apartment he'd declared it 'cool', though his idea of cool was fairly elastic, but he hadn't asked her why she didn't keep it in the office, where she spent infinitely more time. He knew, without her telling him, that sometimes she felt a little bit intimidated by all the staff who had Ivy League degrees. Or even degrees. He never made her feel uncomfortable though, instead he made her feel smart.

She paused with her hand poised on the door in front of her. She let out a small sob as the pain overcame her. Here was man who spoke several languages, had the knowledge of a dead civilisation locked in his mind, who crafted beautiful articles that could make her laugh, and he made her feel smart.

He could save her life a hundred times more and it wouldn't mean as much as that kindness.

She took a deep, ragged breath and pushed the door open. The cafeteria was laid out before her, the kitchen to the left and large, barred windows on the right. Tables and benches ran the length of the room, with double-doors facing her on the opposite wall. Between her and those doors was just the small matter of several patients.

A dozen were scattered over the room, slumped over the tables or crashed out on the floor. Half-eaten meals were laid out on the tables, with one man face-down on his tray. Judging by the low snores, they'd be drugged. That was her fervent hope anyway. She began to pick her way gingerly over to the exit, keeping an eye on the ones lying closest to her. She was a matter of feet away when she heard a crash. She let out a yelp and turned round, trying to identify the source.

A tray lay on the floor, edged off the edge of the table by one of the sleeping men. If that noise wasn't enough to rouse them, then she was going to be fine. She turned back to the doors, only to see one edging open, fingers curled round it as someone opened it from the other side.

"Oh crap."

It swung open fully, revealing the figure of a middle-aged man, his brown hair and beard shaggy and unkempt, his face rather gaunt and his blue scrubs hanging loose over an emaciated body.

"Hey there." She raised her hands and backed up a few stops. Some of the patients and prisoners here were dangerous sure, but they weren't all dangerous, some of them just had a lot of problems. And just because the guy was looking at her with a creepy leer on his face and his tongue was darting out of his mouth rapidly didn't mean he was going to hurt her. Besides, the guy looked scrawny, she could take him.

"Hey Gary, look at what I found," the guy said in a Texas drawl. Another, younger, man stepped through the doors. He looked built. And he had a cleaver in his hand. They really shouldn't keep cleavers here, Lois thought, definite security oversight.

"I like her," Gary nodded.

She suspected she wasn't going to like Gary back. If she could kick the cleaver out of his hand, maybe she'd have a chance. All she needed to do was time it just right and maybe she might snap his wrist too. That would be a real break. And maybe beardy would slip on some mashed banana and knock himself out.

"Guys, don't be uncool," she urged, continuing to back away.

"I really like her," Gary said again.

"Leave her alone," came a voice from the corner. They all turned round, in part because the voice sounded too high, too thin to belong here. Standing with her back to the window was a little girl with beaded braids. She was dressed in a t-shirt with a rainbow emblazoned on it and a ra-ra skirt. She looked really pissed. As well she might, because she'd drowned in her grandparent's swimming pool down the road from Lois' house on the base nearly twenty years ago.

"Tabitha," Lois whispered through the thick feeling in her mouth.

"I don't like her," Gary spat and he ran towards Tabitha, his cleaver above his head. The other guy looked rooted to the spot with terror. Tabitha sneered at Gary and when he was only two feet from her, the table next to them flipped off its legs and smashed him against the bars of the window. The table stayed there for a long moment and then crashed back down to the ground. Gary, his face a bloody mess, fell groaning on to it.

"You're not going anywhere," Tabitha snapped at the bearded man as he turned towards the exit. A metal tray flew up from the floor and smacked him sharply round the head, knocking him down. Lois stared open-mouthed at the little girl and croaked out,

"Hey Tabs. Long time, no see." Jordan had been right. The ghosts at Belle Reeve were really very angry and though Tabitha appeared to be on her side, she didn't want to upset the girl. Especially since she didn't seem much like Tabitha at all. Her face was so contorted with rage, an expression the little kid had never worn. But then maybe this was part of the afterlife deal.

"I tried to warn them. They never listen!" And the tables and benches rattled suddenly.

"Wow, 'they're here' alright," Lois muttered under her breath.

"You'll listen, won't you?"

"Of course. We were friends weren't we?"

"Yes. But that didn't work with the others. They didn't listen!" The furniture began to rattle again. "I tell them when they're asleep and I tell them when they're awake but they don't listen."

"Okay, okay, Tabitha, I'm here and I'm listening. What do you want to tell me?" And what could Tabitha possibly want to tell her? The little girl had played hula with her, run around the base with her, but back then, even though her mom's sickness coloured every day, she was just a kid. Tabitha's death had happened when she'd been visiting Chloe in Metropolis and it had never really been discussed, especially since her mom had been so very close to dying then. It had all been brushed under the rug. It had hurt but her emotions had already begun to close down as she lost her mother, inch by inch. There were no great secrets between them, no unfinished business surely. Her death had been a tragic accident. Did she want to pass on a message from her Mom? Was she close by somewhere? Maybe her Mom couldn't talk to her directly. Her heart sped up at the thought of seeing her again. That brief glimpse had awakened a fierce hunger inside her.

"You need to set me free." Lois frowned.

"How can I do that?"

"Find me."

"Find you? Tabitha you're not…" Tabitha lifted her finger to her lips suddenly. Voices were coming from the direction she'd just come.

"It's them, the ones I made. You have to run."

"Made?" This conversation was getting frustrating. She realised she should be more freaked out by seeing the little girl but it just didn't feel like it was really happening. Things had gone so totally nuts that she was starting to feel a little hysterical. "Where am I supposed to go?"

"The new wing. Into the basement. That's where the tunnel is." She pointed her arm insistently. From the look on her face, she wasn't going to brook dissent. Wow, Tabs really had an attitude.

"Of course, a tunnel! In the basement!" Lois hissed as she ran through the other doors. Though she wasn't keen on the idea of running into more patients like Gary and his friend, or the idea of heading to a secret tunnel, she also didn't want the ones Tabitha had 'made' to come across her. She had an idea Tabitha's friends might be the trio of killers from outside. Perhaps her little bodyguard could handle them as well but she probably shouldn't bet on her good favour. The other ghosts seemed to have been tormenting the Smallville and Belle Reeve residents for months, driving Karl Weathers to suicide and Tom Jordan to pronouncements about the Apocalypse. Maybe if she hadn't just found out her ex could literally see through her she might be more shattered by this as well. But really, these ghosts were really going to have pull out the stops if they wanted to freak her out.

Of course, if she saw her Mom again she might…

She stopped turning over that possibility and tried to get a sense of where she was. Ahead of her was another set of doors, and the plastic sheeting hanging past it said she about to enter the new wing. They'd had to expand of course, since Superman came on the scene. He seemed to unerringly draw meta-humans and people with an inspired sense of chaos to Metropolis. But he would always have more in the win column than the fail column, and what else could they ask of him? Of course he never saw it like that but the guy had a guilty conscience the size of the moon.

Though she wouldn't have expected it, thoughts of Clark calmed her a little. These ghosts and Belle Reeve were tied to Zod, and Zod was the answer to where Smallville was. The idea of her mom had opened a hungry wound inside her that she hadn't anticipated but she couldn't allow it to distract her. Clark was alive, her mom was gone. She had to be as harsh as that.

"Hurry it up Lane, we don't have all day." Her resolve evaporated at the sound of that voice. It was him.

"Maurie?" She pushed through the doors, slapped the plastic sheeting away as she proceeded into the main corridor of the new building. It was deserted, doors still missing from their frames, insulation still exposed in the walls. There was a harsh glow coming from the strip lighting being installed above her head. A film of dust from concrete and plaster covered everything. Maurie was leaning against a wall, looking bored. Looking good for a guy who she'd seen ravaged by the disease inside him. He looked better than he had in a year. Maybe his illness, the funeral, the whole thing had been a horrible dream. Maybe he had never left.

"We don't have much time. I have some new recruits to process soon. Even greener than you were."

"Maurie?"

"Come on, the stairs will take you down there." He nodded to the stairwell beside him. She ran over to the stairs but he seemed to spread thinner and thinner, before popping into nothing, like the last of the sun slipping down over the horizon. She clenched her hands, trying to stop the shaking. Maybe these ghosts could get to her after all. She started the descent, maybe the answers would be down there. The basement of a sanitarium was just the kind of place the secrets were buried. Hopefully that was the only thing buried down there. Maurie was calling from the bottom now, urging her on. She paused before turning the final corner. This all felt wrong. She had been lured here by someone who thought of Clark as Kal-El. It was becoming clearer and clearer that that person wasn't a living and breathing Frank Charter. Then the spirit of her Mom had drawn her into the building, saving her from those killers, or just guiding her towards this place? Then Tabitha cameo-ed and now Maurie was playing spirit guide.

Why would they all want her to come here?

She rounded the last corner and took the final steps quickly. Maurie was standing to her left, gesturing at a closed metal door.

"It's through here. Come on Lane."

"What's through there? Is it going to take me out of here?"

"Yes, yes, come on!"

"And Tabitha Richards is at the other end of that tunnel is she? A girl buried hundreds of miles from here?"

"Forget about that, come on!"

"Where does that tunnel go?" Maurie scowled at her. But this was beyond his usual sour expression. This was a look of pure disgust. He had never looked at her like that in his whole life. "Maurie?"

"You keep saying that, Maurie, Maurie," he put on a screeching voice, "why are you leaving me Maurie? Of course it's me, who does it look like! Always with the damn stupid questions! You reporters never ask the right ones! Walking around with your nose in the air when the truth is right under your feet! Bunch of ignorant parasites!" Lois crossed her arms. Maurie popped out of existence again and in his place was her mother. Her face calm, her smile beatific.

"Darling, you just need to come this way. We don't have much time. Those people upstairs will hurt you if they find you." And the voice, god the voice was just right. It was so full of those things she craved. But she knew.

"Cut the bullshit _Mother_." Her mom's gentle expression faltered, her lower lip trembling as if she was about to cry. "I don't believe you."

"You won't even listen to your own Mother? What the hell is wrong with you, you ungrateful little bitch!" And the whole corridor went crazy, doors rattling in their frames, lights shaking, tools flying into the air.

"Stop it! Just stop lying to me Anna!" The racket cut out abruptly, everything stilled once more. The woman who both was and wasn't her mom stared at her in surprise and then laughed throatily. Even the laugh was right, the sound filled her with this warmth in her stomach. But it had been a lie. Tears pricked her eyes.

"The others have never worked it out. What gave me away?"

"You went a little too far with the hungry ghost thing," Lois said softly. It broke her heart to witness this charade but still some part of her responded to it regardless. And that was why Anna used these illusions. If the people of Smallville wouldn't listen to the people they had loved and lost, who would they listen to? It was clear now that all these manifestations had been speaking with Anna's voice. She was appropriating just enough of the dead to convince everyone that they were experiencing the real thing.

Except it hadn't worked like she wanted, it had just driven them mad. "Why didn't you just appear as yourself? They can't look past these faces and hear what you're trying to tell them."

"I don't have a face anymore. Just a skull." Lois blinked away her tears, shocked by the plain horror of her words. The nightmare she was trapped in had meant all the rules she would once have operated by were gone. It was hard to judge her but it was even harder to trust her. "I didn't mean to upset you." She almost sounded sincere. "The ones far away from me are…harder to think. They get confused. I can't get them to say the right things." So part of her abilities did tie into proximity. When she'd possessed the corpse in Met Gen she'd needed to be close to the body otherwise it wouldn't have worked, that's what Oliver had said in the car. If communication was harder the further away from her actual body she tried to reach then that might explain why all her attempts to alert the outside world had failed so abysmally. But down here she seemed a little saner. The closer to this tunnel she got, the closer to Anna Turner's body she got.

"You've been trying to get people to find you, haven't you?" Anna nodded. "Zod kidnapped you again?" Now she shook her head. "Then who?"

"Shepherd," she spat. "But we don't have time for that now. You need to go into the tunnel. They made it so they could move the patients but they won't be using it again for while."

"Why not?"

"They already have most of who they need." Lois thought of the empty cells and wards upstairs. Had they really spirited almost all of Belle Reeve out of here? What for? "Come on, it will take you to where they're keeping me. And where they're keeping him."

"Clark is down there?" The woman smiled at her smugly.

"He's been telling me all about you. I think he's sweet on you darling." Lois shook her head sharply. Though she didn't want to lose this moment, however corrupted, she knew it was unwise to ignore the destabilising effect this was having on her.

"Don't. Don't pretend to be her anymore. Please, it's making me feel sick." Anna shrugged and the image of her mother was replaced. Lois felt her heart slow again. It hurt to say goodbye to that manifestation of her mother but it had to be done. It wasn't her and it wasn't right. Instead she was facing an older woman, dressed in white. She had olive skin and large brown eyes. A handsome woman. She thought she recognised her from the paper, no, not the _Planet, _maybe just _a_ paper? "I know you from somewhere."

"I'm my mom," she replied. Chloe had brought up the details on the Turners at Watchtower. Lois bit her lip and Anna seemed to notice her discomfort with this idea. "I like looking like her. She always said I took after her." She stared down at her hands, covered in silver rings and bracelets. "I thought she was so beautiful."

"She was." Anna smiled briefly at her.

"Thanks. Now come on, the new ones are due soon, and you need to free me before that."

"Wait, wait. There's something you still haven't explained. Why did you bring me here? Why not a Green Beret or Wonder Woman? I can be useful but I'm no hero."

Anna raised her eyebrows. "You've been sleeping with an alien haven't you? I wanted someone with an open mind."

"I don't buy it."

"Buy it or don't, your boyfriend is at the end of this tunnel."

"Yeah, well you know what they say about the light at the end of the tunnel." Lois stared resolutely back at the woman. Maybe she'd dropped the dearly departed routine but she was still hiding things from her. When Chloe had held her captive and Jimmy had spoken to her he'd apparently said some disturbing things to her, things that had sent her into suicidal depths. Now Lois suspected that that hadn't really been Jimmy at all, but Anna, angry at the woman who was using her and ready to cause some harm. Her ghosts were angry because she was angry. She was angry with this whole town, for standing by as her life and her death was stolen from her. Lois decided to take another tack, hoping it might draw out something useful. "Why was Charter even here?"

"That guy, forget him. Just another dead body," Anna shrugged callously.

"Tell me." Anna sighed.

"Fine. He wanted to talk to his benefactor. The man who's been financing his cult." Lois nodded, there were signs that Charter had been drawing on a fund from somewhere, the con artist had either been working a Ponzi scheme of quite titanic proportions or he'd had a fan. "The Senator."

"But why would he…"

"They both like aliens almost as much as you do. Actually Charter would probably have liked to show his love for Kal-El just like you do." Lois scowled at her. "Oh what, I'm being coarse? Sorry if my manners aren't up to scratch," she snapped at her. "You living people have no idea what to do with all your flesh. You waste it." Lois was starting to suspect that Anna Turner wasn't just angry, she was more than a little bit crazy.

"Why did you bring me here?" Anna looked at her sharply. The metal door next to them swung open abruptly. In the gloomy room beyond it was an open hatch. A dark concrete tunnel stretched out beyond it with no end in sight.

"Would you die for him?" The look on her face obviously let Anna know what she thought of that question. The other woman broke out into a disturbing smile. "Then I made the right choice. Don't worry, we can talk about Plan B on the way." She nodded towards the route ahead of them and Lois stepped forward towards the darkness. She had made this decision a long time ago, maybe years ago, and now it was time to follow through on it.


	30. Chapter 30

Baron Bee: Real life intruded and then I got riven by doubts about how to wind this story up! Sorry for the delay. The finish line is definitely in sight though...

[Loving clois action in season 10 btw, but having that many unattended candles in a barn? Unwise.]

* * *

Half-way along the tunnel, the ghost beside her asked her why she kept on going.

Since she'd been running steadily for over twenty minutes down the long, featureless passage, and was powered by very little sleep, and even less food, Lois could only grunt out,

"Faith."

Anna had laughed, of course, and said there was "no God down here". She didn't bother to correct her. It was faith in something different that kept her moving towards a seemingly hopeless conclusion.

To pinpoint it, the exact moment that idea had become familiar to her was when Clark had come to her apartment the night after they had argued in the diner and changed her life. Clark was like that, changing lives, saving lives. Though she knew that fact as he stood outside her door and begged for admittance, she had debated unlocking it. If she opened the door then things wouldn't be the same tomorrow. Perhaps he would say something or do something that could cause her to put aside her anger and frustration but she wasn't convinced he could end her doubt.

But finally she had let him in and when she did, there was this look of resolution on his face that didn't reassure her. When Clark made up his mind, he could be just as stubborn as her. He'd started talking about how important she was to him and how he'd been an idiot and how he knew there was something between them. She'd known she had to jump in before it went too far.

"Smallville, I don't want to hear it, okay? I went to Perry today because this is bad for our careers. Don't you get how wrong an idea this whole thing is? Didn't I teach you anything since you joined, office romances are right up there in the cardinal sins of journalism along with getting drunker than your source and forgetting to submit your expenses!" She sighed at his crossed arms and implacable expression. Time to get a little more personal then. "Fine, if I can't appeal to your professionalism, then how about I remind you what the two of us are like at dating. You've got some romantic arrested development which means you're only interested in women you went to high school with, and considering how many of them are in Belle Reeve or are already hitched, you have an incredibly limited pool. And me…where do we start? I make the worst decisions when it comes to men. I seem to exclusively date psychopaths and men who lead double lives. I even turned down a hot billionaire last night because he wasn't…wasn't…"

"Wasn't what?" More like 'wasn't who'. But he couldn't know that. This whole thing needed to be brought to a hasty conclusion.

"That doesn't matter. I've learnt my lessons and so should you!" She took a deep breath, relieved to have got out her most compelling points and still sounded semi-cogent. That was some achievement. Usually when she rehearsed this 'it's off the table' speech in her mind, she either ended it by breaking into wracking sobs or throwing herself at him. Or both.

However, Clark didn't seem to be accepting her very compelling points. Couldn't he just concede, just this once? Also, why was he walking closer and closer towards her? She made a face at him and grabbed a throw cushion off her couch for defence. She was running out of space to back away from him and his unfortunately fine self.

"Lois, some things you can teach, and some things you can learn…" He took the cushion and threw it over his shoulder. "And some things you just know."

"Oh yeah?" She asked weakly. He was only inches from her now, staring down at her in a way that was making her stomach flip. Here she was, trying to be the picture of professionalism and prudence and he was bedroom eyes-ing her. Clark Kent shouldn't even have bedroom eyes, he was supposed to have wholesome cowshed eyes. She was trying to exercise self-control and think 'hayseed' and he was throwing 'roll in the hay' right back at her. Seriously out of line. She had tried to talk and blurted out, "Like what?" And that had all been wrong. Was she trying to encourage him in this madness? Did she actually want this to happen? This happening right now, right here, after-all-these-years car crash?

"Like us." And he kissed her. She hadn't actually been thinking about faith the moment their lips met. Though making out with Clark could be called a spiritual experience it wasn't the kind Sunday School had in mind.

But in the moment of clarity after they un-clinched, she realised she was prepared to ignore all her doubts because she believed in him. She believed he was the kindest, bravest, strongest man she knew. Before she'd met him, she would have said she didn't have a lot of faith. It turned out she had a whole lot more than she realised, and she had placed it in him. Unfortunately she hadn't placed enough of it in herself.

Maybe that was why they hadn't worked the first time round. She'd been unable to let go of the idea that it would fail, that he would let her down, because she expected she wasn't enough for him. For any man; super or standard. It looked like he was guilty of the same problem, afraid that who he was meant he had to be alone. It was a wonder the two of them had made it as far as they had together.

Faith in an 'us' wasn't enough without faith in themselves.

It was pointless to wonder why this searing insight couldn't have arrived two weeks ago, two months ago, or maybe two years ago when it might have done her some good. But that was the way it all seemed to work with her, she did everything in the wrong order. At least she was now armed with a cell phone that had no signal, a pepper spray and some constructive pointers on her failed relationship. Because to be rushing into this whole thing without proper consideration would really be foolish.

Lois paused for a moment, and leant against the wall. Her heart was thumping in her chest so hard she thought she was going to be sick, a horrible cramp was twisting her side and she was starting to develop claustrophobia. The tunnel was worse than she'd thought it would be. It was wide enough for four men to walk abreast of each other, and around eight feet high but it felt far, far smaller. It stretched out in front of her, empty, silent. The lights had flicked on as soon as she stepped inside so she could see far ahead but all she could see at the end was a blank wall. She hoped it was just a turning that was too distant for her to pick out. Unfortunately the idea that the tunnel had been bricked up at the other end had sprung into her mind. And once she'd thought it, it was hard to un-think it. It was hard not to think that she had walled herself into a nightmare situation that could only have bad outcomes.

Rather than dwell on that, she was trying to guess what she'd find behind the door she hoped she'd find around the turn she wasn't sure was there. Since the ground beneath her was on a slight decline she knew she was travelling deeper underground and from her best guess, closer towards the outskirts of Smallville. She could only imagine that they, whoever _they_ were, were making use of one of the labs LutherCorps had used for their more illegal experiments. The area was riddled with them, both Lionel and Lex more than happy to take advantage of their control over the town to get people to look the other way.

"Anna?" The ghost had disappeared a few minutes ago, deciding a huffing and puffing Lois Lane wasn't that much fun.

"You rang my liege," she replied from just behind her shoulder. Lois managed to control the urge to jump, which she put down to Clark's years of appearing abruptly. Anna was still appearing as her own mother, a small mercy she was grateful for. She slumped against the wall. She didn't have a lot left in the tank so taking a breather was probably a calculated risk. It wouldn't hurt to get some more info out of the girl as well. She'd been acting cagey since outlining the broad brush strokes of her Plan B and there were plenty of questions still to be answered. "The new recruits you talked about…you're talking about putting dead souls in someone else's body, aren't you?" Anna nodded, her expression no longer playful. This was why the Sheriff was taking orders from a killer and why they wanted so many Belle Reeve inhabitants. They needed bodies for Anna to slot dead people's spirits into. She had done it once in the morgue herself, by jumping into a corpse. But what good was wearing a shuffling zombie? No, you wanted someone fresh, someone who wouldn't be missed, like a crazy prisoner, or maybe someone who could wear a face that might open some doors for you. Someone with power, like a meteor freak or a cop.

The realisation clicked into place instantly and she drew in a sharp breath. It should have occurred to her straight away, as soon as she'd heard the story about her possessing the guy in the freezer.

"Zod is in Senator Shepherd's body, isn't he?" Anna smiled bitterly.

"The paranoid were right all along, aliens _have_ taken over the government. Well, one senate seat anyway. You really think those Krypton-freaks could fly under the radar that well before they went up in smoke? People knew. And then military intelligence knew and then Shepherd knew. He believed aliens were the answer to America's problems, the way to make our might mighty again. And at first he thought it was your boyfriend who was going to drag us into the light," her voice dripped with disgust. "But the characters in Belle Reeve put paid to that idea. Clark was always going to be too hands-off for him. Too soft on the enemy. Your squeeze is a bleeding heart."

"Zod was a soldier, he'd respect that," Lois whispered.

"And with Zod in his body he could take this country's future into his own two hands. Course, it doesn't exactly work like that," Anna snorted.

"How do you mean?"

"Do you think Zod was going to share accommodation? Shepherd invited him in and now the senator's keys don't fit the locks anymore. Shepherd has been erased. All there is is Zod. I think part of him always knew that would happen. I think he welcomed it. Dying for the flag." Lois groaned. She'd been hoping that there would be some part of Shepherd that could still be appealed to. But Zod was all that was left and he had Clark's powers at his disposal. A sudden anger flared up inside her.

"How could you do this? You knew Zod was dangerous from the last time you met the Kandorians and yet you put him back into a body!"

"Oh you think I had a choice do you?" Anna snapped back at her. "You don't have a clue!"

"Then clue me in!"

"When I'm hooked up to their damned machine they can pump me with that meteor goop and I just become this…this zombie! I just drift right out of my body. They do what they want and I just…sit there…and watch them do it to me." Lois felt her anger fade as quickly as it had come. The girl's description reminded her of words she'd heard before. She asked tentatively,

"Is that what happened when Styson hurt you?" Anna looked at her with her mouth open and her hands curled up on her chest. She broke eye contact and gave a shaky nod. "You're trying to protect yourself."

"I thought it was the machine and the green stuff," she said in a horribly young voice. Anna was surrendering control of her body when they tried to use her either in part because she couldn't bear to feel them desecrate her corpse, over and over. Telling her to suck it up was ridiculous, the woman had suffered terrifying trauma, perhaps even enough to break her mind. She had to break her free of that machine, one way or another.

"I'm sorry." She reached out to touch her arm and her hand passed through the image of her with no resistance. Anna looked at her wearily, all the years back on her face in an instant.

"Forget it. You need to speed up. The next wave of the recruits are due soon."

"He's putting Kandorians in these bodies isn't he?" Anna nodded.

"His friends are so grateful to live again they don't care whose lives they're treading on."

"And the people they're possessing, can they be brought back?" Anna shrugged carelessly.

"Never tried it." Lois set her mouth into a grim line.

"You're going to. How many have you done already?"

"Ten. Some took, some didn't. It's not a science." Lois winced at her breezy attitude when her words hinted more than ten people had already died as part of Zod's re-staffing. "They can go wherever they want because they're dead and all the time I'm stuck, always pulled back into my body, always getting weaker the further I try to go." Lois thought it was a bad sign of her state of mind that Anna was jealous of aliens joyriding in other people's bodies.

"But unless they're meteor-infected they're all just human."

"You think the bastard hasn't got that covered? He's got some thing he's going to jab them all with, make them all super-people. His own army." Which meant the military project had been successful and Zod had been able to re-engineer its orginal purpose, to turn ordinary humans into Kryptonians. The idea was nightmareish. With Zod leading them, how could they trust that the Kandorians wouldn't be just as ruthless as their leader? This was the exact situation Clark had been trying to prevent when the LutherCorps towers went down. Her thoughts turned to the glimpse of the future she had received over two years ago. Could her return just have denied the inevitable?

"Guess I need to run faster."

"Guess you should."

Running again was harder than it had been before and she reached the tunnel end feeling wiped out. It had turned a corner after all and there was the heavy metal door she had prayed for. Anna sketched out what was behind it for her roughly, though since she could move through walls and appear almost anywhere she wanted, she wasn't too good on a coherent floorplan. Still, she would act as scout, making sure Lois didn't run across any of Zod's resurrected friends. The lab where Anna was kept wasn't too far away and she wasn't under guard since she was a corpse. As for the security cameras, her ghostly presence caused them to turn to static, which she'd refined to an art while trying to piss off her captors.

"All you need to do is mess up that machine enough that they can't control me anymore. Then I can mess Zod up and then you get your happy ending with your slow-witted sweetheart."

"And you're sure you can cut the connection, get the Kandorians out of the bodies and replace them with the original spirits?" Anna smirked.

"You're as soft as Kent. Of course I'll put everyone and everything back together. Just shut that machine down." Lois swallowed hard and nodded. She wasn't too jazzed about trusting the dead girl but she didn't have a lot of choice. Zod wasn't going to conveniently stand still long enough for Clark to electrocute him with a big chuck of meteor rock in his hand.

"Then we have a deal. I get you free and you help me put a stop to Zod."

"Sure, let's shake on it." Lois reflexively stuck out her hand and Anna passed her own through it. "Aw, shame. I'm dead. What's the matter Lois, isn't my word good enough for you?" The door swung open in front of them, another grey corridor ahead, this one lined with closed doors and thick cabling running along the ceiling. A low hum seemed to emerge from the walls. "Because it's all you have. That and your faith, of course." Lois ignored her and stepped over threshold. Her faith had got her this far hadn't it?

She jogged to the end of the corridor and took the left turn as Anna indicated. There were no blaring alarms or super-powered soldiers yet, so maybe this could work. It wasn't the first evil base of operations she'd infiltrated after all. It was just the stakes were so much higher, things like the future of the planet and the life of her best friend.

He was close by, she knew it. If she could just pull off this last crazy plan then he would be safe again. Nothing else really mattered. It should scare her how much she was unbothered by risking her life for his but the idea sat pretty comfortably with her. He was Smallville, didn't that explain the impossible? He was this almost invulnerable being and she was this maddening woman who didn't know when to quit and they should be impossible. Maybe they would turn out to be. But she wanted to fight for that impossibility.

"This one," Anna whispered as she stepped through a closed black door. Lois pressed down on the door handle and edged it open slightly. A large laboratory was revealed. Crucially empty of people, alien or otherwise. It was equipped with three medical beds complete with restraints, cabinets containing neat rows of vials and what looked like a couple of refrigerators. She slid inside, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. There was no lock.

The air felt markedly colder in here and the hum she'd noticed earlier was even louder. Both the noise and the cool air seemed to be coming from the swing doors on the other side of the room. There were two porthole windows but though she could see light coming through them she couldn't see much else. Anna hissed at her as she materialised through them, jerking her head to show her the way to go.

Lois crept across the room, grabbing hold of a pair of surgical scissors lying on a tray next to one of the beds. Pepper spray, a non-functioning phone, _and_ scissors? Now she was really ready to kick ass. She pulled hard on the doors, the handles cold to the touch. As she dragged them slowly open an icy blast bit into her skin. The bright lights inside the room in front of her were amplified by the white tiles that covered the walls, ceiling and floor. The floor sloped down towards a central drain that made her uneasy. Whatever this room had been designed to do, it anticipated there would be some run-off. Though the drain creeped her out, it was hard to look away from the six foot high tank against the back wall. Two large cylinders were connected to the tank with pipes and the whole structure was covered in a dull grey metal. Lead she guessed. Because in that tank was the corpse of Anna Turner, swimming in a Kryptonite cocktail, and now Zod had Clark's powers, having a meteor rock charged body in your basement meant insurance policies. The loud humming was coming from the back of the tank. When she walked over to take a look she could see coils of narrow pipes and thick wires running into the wall. Refrigeration perhaps? She went back round to the front. The whole thing seemed to be leaking cold air. Zod clearly wanted to keep Anna nice and frosty. Enough to slow the rot but not cold enough to freeze the green goop. But no fridge, no matter how serious, could make enough of a noise that you could hear it through several walls. So what was making that noise? In the back left-hand corner of the room was a stack of more lead covered cylinders. Supplies of liquid meteor rock she guessed. Zod clearly liked to keep a well-stocked larder. Anna wasn't about to be laid to rest any time soon.

In front of the tank was an utterly ordinary office desk, with its own chair and a fancy looking computer. The computer had a cable connecting it to the tall metal box beside it. Its front was covered in thick transparent plastic that exposed the inside workings. The blinking lights and switches didn't mean much to her individually but it all added up to what looked like a server. The whole set-up was linked into the back of the tank as well.

Lois looked around her. There wasn't anything else. Not even a ghost.

"Anna?"

She stabbed at the keyboard and the screen came to life. A long list of commands and instructions scrolled past, all dated from at least twelve hours ago. She stared at the text, unsure what to do next.

Suddenly the screen jumped and text began to scroll furiously across, as if being typed by an invisible hand. A second later came an awkward sound from the small speakers on the side of the display.

"What."

"Are."

"You."

"Standing."

"There."

"For."

Lois took an instinctive step back as the flatly modulated voice emerged from the computer and echoed around the room. She looked up as she realised where the words had come from. The tank.

"Anna? Is that you?"

"They. Set. Up. A. Computer. Voice." As she got used to the sound it became easier to try and tie it into a whole sentence. "Sounds hot." It felt like the skin on the back of her neck was shrivelling though. This girl had been murdered years ago and her brain was still somehow able to form words. Form thoughts. Feelings. All the time trapped in a box like some grotesque specimen. Lois pressed her hand against the cold metal of the tank.

"I'm going to get you out of here, I swear it."

"No one has cried for me in a long time." Lois wiped her eyes quickly.

"Yeah, well, you can be a bit scary sometimes."

"You have no idea. Now break something." Lois frowned.

"You did your poltergeist routine earlier, why not now? Why not just smack the crap out of this stuff?"

Lois wasn't sure how the girl managed to imbue such a robotic voice with so much sneer but she did it alright. "What do you think I have been doing. I cannot get the metal off. I cannot break the big box. I can only smash up the computer. This is the third one. It does not work."

"Then what am I going to do?"

"Type."

Lois almost laughed out loud. Obviously fine control wasn't the ghost's specialty so she'd been drafted to touchtype the world back from the brink of alien takeover. Maybe she could run up a few Xeroxes for world peace later too.

"Saving the world with my mad office skills huh?" She began scanning the screen for some kind of self-destruct menu option. "What am I even looking for?"

"A way to disengage the meteor rock feed."

"Okay, okay." This was Chloe's specialty, not hers. She'd be able to rip this thing apart with a few devastating keystrokes. As she jumped through pages of impenetrable data she felt her despair mounting. Clark needed her to do this right and do it right now. She was failing him when he really needed her. Then something popped out at her, a diagram that seemed to show the flow of Kryptonite between the cylinders and Anna's body. She clicked through some more options, feeling a sliver of hope she might have stumbled across the right switch to flick. But then a screen jumped up to prompt her to enter a password.

"No. No, no, come on, I don't need this." She tried to backtrack and reach the same screen by another route but again the insistent message that she needed a password. "Anna, do you know what the password is?" There was no answer. She typed something desperately but as soon as she completed it, another message appeared, flashing red. And the letters weren't in a human alphabet. "This isn't good."

"You have failed." The chair suddenly flew away from the desk, brushing less than an inch past Lois as it slammed into the wall by the door, the tiles cracking underneath the intensity of her rage.

"I'll try again, okay, I can get this to work!"

"You have failed. Now we use plan B." There was a heavy grinding noise from the corner of the room and Lois saw the stacked cylinders rolling away from the wall and as they moved, the body of a young woman was revealed behind them. She slumped limply on to her side as her body was freed. Lois rushed over to her and knelt down at her side. The woman looked unhurt apart from a red welt on her forehead. Her pulse felt strong. She was dressed all in black, a unmarked set of dogtags around her neck, as if waiting to be imprinted with a designation.

"Kill her."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Plan B. Kill her," the flat voice repeated.

"Who is she?"

"Her name is Callie. She came to check the refrigeration unit. She is one of his."

"What do you mean, 'his'? What is she doing here?"

"She came to check the refrigeration unit. I told you that."

"Wait. Callie? Callie from the second level?" Could this be one of the women from Frank Charter's Fellowship? The one they hadn't managed to track down? Chase had mentioned that some people had drifted away from the group, was it possible they'd given up on one son of Krypton only to replace him with another? If Zod had continued to fund the group, it would make sense that he would see it as a potential recruiting ground for his reborn soldiers. They would be the kind of people willing to die for him, the kind of people willing to kill for him even. To get rid of the flies in the ointment, like Eric Summers, surplus to requirements. Or others who had decided they didn't want to be part of the gang after all and had backed out of the grand plan, like the blogger. This woman could be one of the killers who she had been looking for.

Her story, delivered at her feet. Her way out of the ultimate price she had known she might have to pay.

"Kill her."

Lois continued to stare at the unconscious woman.

"Why are you hesitating? We discussed this. Plan B means that I take over a recently expired body that is in a good condition. But if I try to kill her I will damage her too much for her to be useful. You can kill her without damaging her head." Lois' eyes lept to the surgical scissors she had left next to the keyboard. It came down to fine motor skills again. The scissors wouldn't work, it would cause damage that would make the returned person vulnerable. Anna could restart a body like a defibrilator but not one that was bleeding from a neck wound or had a pulped head. So it would be choking maybe. Strangling the girl with her bare hands. It wasn't a quick way to kill someone. "She is one of the recruits. She has chosen to die so that an alien can live. She wants to die for Zod. Now she can die for your boyfriend. If I can get into a new body I can save him. I can save you all. You will die unless you kill her. The man you love will die. The whole planet will be enslaved."

"I _can't._" Her hands was shaking. The Kryptonian message was still flashing on the screen. How long until they found her? How long until she was killed and Clark was disposed of? Maybe Chloe and Ollie and the others could stop one Kryptonian, but a whole squad of them? When so much was at stake, was it wrong to put her own principles above everything else? And this woman was here to help usher in Zod's dreadful vision, the one she had seen on that ceiling maybe, so many years in the future. The body had to be fresh for a dead soul to move into it successfully. If Anna was in a decaying body, she would snap back into her own, like she had in the mortuary. But if she could get free of the meteor rock they pumped her full of, she could undo what she had done to Shepherd's body. She had said so. They had discussed it. Surely this way made sense.

"Kill her." Lois turned to the tank and shook her head. Maybe there were people that could find some rationalisation for an act like that but she wasn't one of them and she didn't want to be. Toying with the idea in her mind was just fear. She knew what was going to happen now and she was scared. She'd been denying the truth by thinking there was some way she could break Anna out of her prison by messing with a few buttons and switches. There was only one way she could try and save Clark.

"Forget it. I'm not killing anyone."

"I was trying to help you," came the reply. "I did not want it to be this way."

"Please, you knew this was how it was going to be as soon as you called me here," Lois snapped wearily. Shouldn't she be doing something? These were some of her very last moments and she was spending them sniping with a murder victim. It was funny, she thought, but Anna shared a connection with Kate Roberts. They had both been murdered by the same man, yet she couldn't imagine two more different people than her former source and this manipulative woman.

"Maybe. But I liked you Lois Lane." She was already in the past tense to Anna. Had probably always been. Lois turned to face the doors. There was so much that could go wrong. Clark could be killed before her. She could die messily. Anna might fail at the crucial moment.

She could only pray that she was making the right decision. She had to have faith that the world would continue to see her as Superman's girlfriend and overlook the fact she was Lois Lane. And she would be Lois Lane right up until the moment Zod stole the life out of her.


	31. Chapter 31

He had tried to understand every expression that crossed her face. The first he'd learnt to understand were the ones she made when he was the butt of the joke, and that meant a roll of the eyes, maybe an eyebrow raised, sometimes the smallest of smirks. Then he'd learnt about her resolved looks, the ones he ignored at his peril. But then he'd worked out how she could thank him without uttering any words of gratitude. Just with a glance. He'd seen how she could reveal the tiniest sliver of the pain and grief she controlled and how it was brief moment of access, quickly revoked. So he'd begun to see that there was more to her than he'd realised.

After they began to work together, she had looked at him differently, with something new in her eyes. It had been pained, disappointed, hopeful, frustrated all at once. His reward for decoding that new puzzle was realising Lois Lane liked him. _Liked_ him, liked him. And even more surprising was that her feelings were echoed in his own face.

Then there were the looks that she had taught him and that underpinned their partnership. There was the one that screamed, 'Rescue me from this conversation before I use this salad fork in a way it wasn't intended.' There was the glance that urged, 'Now I've distracted the guard, get to work on those private files!'. Or that hinted, 'This meeting is so boring; copy room after?'.

But still after all this time, some looks evaded him. This frustrated and fascinated him in turn. It didn't seem to matter how long he studied her, there was always another to learn.

Not all the lessons were welcome.

Case in point, the look on her face when he was dragged into the 'birthing' room by two of Zod's soldiers. The white light had caused him to screw his eyes up tightly, the drugs giving him a pounding ache in his head that tried to get his attention louder than the cuts and bruises over the rest of his body. But then he'd looked up, opening his eyes a crack. He couldn't hear her heart without his super-hearing and she hadn't said a word yet but somehow he heard her. Zod was delivering a speech to the rest of the room but there was the smallest of noises which caught his attention. A release of breath.

He'd looked up and seen her face. He had never seen her so afraid. He had saved her life when she was about to plummet from rooftops, about to be overcome by toxic fumes, when she was being shot at but never had he seen fear seize her like this. It was something beyond her wide eyes or her drained pallor, it was as if something had cracked. As if she had snapped in two. He knew all this in an instant because he felt the same way. The sight of her, standing alone in the midst of Zod's acolytes, was too hard to witness. But though he wanted to close his eyes again and try and wipe out the image of her he couldn't. He could only continue to look straight at her.

"The love birds are reunited," Zod crooned, walking up to Lois' side. He was dressed all in black here, shedding the suits that came with his pretence of being Shepherd. Though the body and face were utterly different, even his voice, it was still clearly the Kandorian Major. Except the word General was echoing around the room. Clark supposed his delivery of his troops from death had earned him a promotion in their eyes.

Zod was studying Lois with a keen interest, something Clark knew was mostly for his benefit. She didn't react, merely continued to stare at him as he half-kneeled on the floor, his escorts right beside him, and his shredded cape lying tattered around him. He wanted to be able to stand, desperately, because it would show her that he wasn't totally beaten. That maybe there was some hope. But it was all he could do to keep his head off the floor. It was the first time she had seen him as Superman and she had never seen him more beaten. She knew of course, he'd known she would find out as soon as he was captured by Zod. She had been close to realising the truth before he left and Chloe and the others would have made sure she wasn't labouring in the dark any longer. Was she disappointed that the man she'd thought was a hero could be broken down? "I'd thought destroying that base while all your pathetic allies were inside was good news." Clark registered these words and felt as if a huge hand was trying to force him closer to the ground. Lois' eyes closed for a moment at this casual reference to their friends. Was it possible they were all already dead? It couldn't be. But if they were, there was no last-minute rescue. There was no one to save Lois but him and he couldn't even save himself. "This really makes my day that much sweeter." Lois took a deep breath and her hand moved from behind her back up to near her face. She was holding long scissors under her chin, the sharp ends dug cruelly into her skin. Clark felt his stomach lurch.

"What are you doing?" Zod asked with some amusement.

"Let him go."

"Or what?" It was a hopeless manoeuvre. With his stolen powers, Zod could move faster than she could compel her hand to. Unfortunately as the older man and a life-long soldider, Zod had proved extremely adept at using Clark's powers. There had been no false starts or faltering steps. The powers he had himself struggled with for years had been effortlessly mastered by the General.

But it wasn't only hopeless, it was bewildering. Why was Lois threatening to hurt herself? Then the understanding hit him. He staggered to his feet, trying to surge forward. The two men beside him easily took hold of him but he continued to thrash in their grip. This couldn't happen.

"Clark," she said quietly. The word sound wrenched from somewhere deep inside her.

"You're not going to kill yourself," Zod smiled confidently at her as he snatched the scissors out of her hand. She made a grab for them but he effortlessly crumpled them in his hand. "I'm going to kill you. And then she will be reborn." Lois jerked her head away, her self-control clearly faltering. The plan had clearly been discussed before he'd been brought in to act as witness. To watch as Zod murdered his girlfriend and replaced her soul with that of one of his soldiers. The ghosts had told him what Zod had been doing with Charter's former cultists and some of the people from Smallville and Belle Reeve. On any other day, the fact that a man wearing the face of Alicia's killer had dragged him from his cell would have been shattering. Or seeing other familiar faces seemingly stolen by the people he had so desperately wanted to help find a home on this planet. But it meant nothing to the horror of seeing Lois in the middle of this hell and now understanding what Zod planned for her.

Just as Lex had said, Zod knew what Lois and he meant to each other, and he was going to get his revenge on him by hurting her. By killing her. And then by using her body as a tool.

He felt his shoulder pop out of its socket as he strained against his captors and in the blinding agony that followed he realised he had completely lost control, for how long, he wasn't sure. But understanding what was about to happen and finding himself totally powerless to stop it had sent him over the edge. Since he'd been captured his mind had sluggishly been turning over the wider implications of Zod's plans coming to fruition. He had speculated on how effective resistance would be. He had wondered if his friends would be able to stop Zod before lives were lost. He had hoped that the Kandorians would still yet come to their senses and see how wrong Zod was. But he had never allowed himself to think about one very painful possible outcome. That Lois would be dragged into this. Or that she would walk into it. His mind had simply refused to consider it because he had never felt so powerless to do anything.

He wanted to say something, do something that could rescue her from this. But he had never felt like less of a hero. Lois was still staring at him, the same horrified expression on her face. But then he saw something else beyond that. Something far underneath the fear. He didn't understand it.

"He's hurt. Are you going to kill him?" She asked Zod, her voice totally still.

"He's betrayed his own people. The sentence for that is death," Zod said harshly, his own good humour evaporated.

"The sentence for that can be my death, can't it?"

"Lois, no!" He yelled again. She couldn't bargain with her life in this way.

"But you're not dying Lois…at least, not the most useful part of you." And the look he gave her brought another painful realisation. Zod wasn't intended to use Lois as a host for just any of his soldiers. He intended to use her for Faora. The woman he cared about. Who had become his wife in his other life on Krypton. After he murdered her, Zod was going to kiss her, touch her, undress her. Lois seemed to understand that, as she buried the look of revulsion on her face and glared at the General.

"If you kill him, you'll make him a martyr. You have no idea how much people on this planet love him. Probably as much as people on your planet hated you before you helped destroy it."

"Don't talk about things you have no understanding of," he hissed at her as he crushed her arm. "I would hate to have to hurt you before I kill you." Lois didn't even let out a whimper, though Clark could see her body shaking from the pain he was inflicting on her. As he lurched forward again the pain in his shoulder made black spots appear in front of his eyes. He stopped pulling against the men holding him and tried to think. There had to be some way to stop this. He couldn't stand here and just watch Lois die. He scanned the room, trying to think of some option he hadn't considered. The faces of those around him were implacable. They seem unmoved by Lois' suffering. They stood in neat rows, all wearing the same black clothing, the ones in the front wearing decorated tags, the ones in the back yet to be inducted. How could he get them to turn against him when he had failed so spectacularly last time?

When he'd learned about the fate of Krypton, he'd been confused as to why anyone would follow Zod, when his actions were so clearly wrong. How had his soldiers helped him walk their whole race to disaster? But back then he hadn't understood leadership as he did now. He still wasn't the leader he wanted to be yet and he'd hoped he would have time to continue to grow into that role. The last few years though had shown him that some individuals could inspire faith in those around him to a frightening level. It could manifest as dangerously unbalanced behaviour, such as those of the Fellowship, who worshipped Superman and Frank Charter. And it could lead soldiers like the Kandorians into obeying a man who worshipped only power. He needed to try and shake their faith in him as a leader. If Zod was isolated, then there was a chance the League could take him down, if they'd survived. They'd prepared for fighting Kryptonians before, mostly when envisaging a situation when he became a risk. They had plans and measures in place for fighting one super-powered being. But if his followers and soldiers stayed with him and he eventually found a way to give them his powers then the Earth was in terrible danger.

"Zod, you don't have to do this," he called out to him, though really addressing his words to the others. "Let her go, I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt her! You can't rebuild Kandor on the deaths of other people."

"You and your human friends left us with no choice Kal-El. You betrayed your own people to protect them, when we're all that remains of Krypton." Zod was now holding Lois' wrist in his hand. She wasn't struggling, just watching him carefully.

"If this is all that remains of Krypton, then it shouldn't survive because this is sick! Murdering an innocent woman just to punish me has no honour!"

"This is war Kal-El, and we are soldiers. We will do whatever it takes to keep Kandor alive. You're familiar with the term collateral damage aren't you?" And he smiled at Clark as he gripped the back of Lois' neck tightly. "There are always sacrifices in conflict."

Lois grimaced, the terror on her face was starting to recede and instead she just appeared disgusted. And resigned. Like she knew no one and nothing could save her now. He had thought that nothing would be worse to witness than the naked fear that he had seen when he had first laid eyes on her. But this hopelessness was even worse. "Can we just get on with this? Listening to your pathetic self-justifications is making me nauseous. You're a monster." Zod shook her slightly, his lip curling with disgust.

"You really think this traitor is a good man? He helped to incinerate the last remnants of his home just to protect useless chattel like you. Look at him now. He claims to love you and all you humans. But he can't do anything to stop our victory over this planet. A man who throws away power like he does doesn't deserve it. So much for your _Superman._" Zod gestured to one of his female followers and the woman stepped forward. She wore the face of Sheriff Adams but now she was a Kandorian, blindly following a madman. Just as Lois would soon. She presented a metal tray to Zod and he nodded his approval. There was a long syringe lying there along with a small bottle and a swab. Zod pulled Lois arms behind her back, holding her wrists between one hand with complete indifference to her sudden struggle. Her eyes were wide again and she kicked out at the woman who had been the Sheriff. She dodged her flailing legs and balanced the contents of the tray with one hand.

"Lois!"

Zod merely pulled back on her arms and she let loose a scream of pain. She hung loose in his hold then as he carefully brushed her long hair away from her neck.

"That's better. This will be over quickly; I'm not a heartless man."

"Zod, stop this! I'll do whatever you want just leave her alone! She hasn't done anything to you, you can't do this to her!" He gasped sharply as his captors tightened their hold on him, his shoulder once again shrieking a reminder of its damage. Though his body acknowledged the pain, it seemed to be happening at one remove, to some other person. But his vision was turning black at the corners until he seemed to be watching her through a darkened glass.

"Stop hurting him, can't you see you're going to kill him!" The Kandorians ignored both their protests. Instead the woman pressed the swab against the bottle and tipped some liquid on to it. She then wiped the cotton over the side of Lois' neck. Sterilising the site. It was a lethal injection they were preparing but in this instance making it a clean procedure had a purpose. Her body had to remain healthy for its next occupant.

"Then maybe you should try and calm him down. You have only a few seconds for last words. Make them count." The syringe was now being tapped as the air bubbles were removed.

"Clark, Clark, listen to me. Listen to me." His head snapped up as he recognised her most agonised tone. When he had got things horribly, horribly wrong, she would look at him this way, use that voice. It was firm but pained. It said he had hurt her, let her down, but that she would be okay. It was just as she had been the night at the hospital when she had broken up with him. He'd thought he would never fail her like that again and yet every day since he had compounded the same mistakes. All leading to this final, irretrievable one. "We always knew things might turn out this way. But remember the rules, okay?"

"The rules," his voice came out as a hoarse rasp.

"Right, the ones from the start." She was looking so keenly at him, trying to convey something without words. "Sometimes you lose. Rule Eight, remember? You promised me." He blinked away tears. Lois had tried to add a rule about losing once to the list. It had been a game of theirs, one they'd played before they'd been together, while they were together, after they were together even. She tried to edit the Rules of Reporting and he refused over and over. Neither of them really wanted the list changed because it stood for something, it stood for their start. And now here they were at the end and she was invoking it. But the rule had been joke about how she was always going to come out on top.

It had been July he remembered, a sweltering day in the bullpen. One of their last before they moved upstairs.

July when she had talked about losing and how there should be a new rule. They had been bored and restless. His eyes had kept dropping to the narrow straps of her top on her shoulders and she had kept on catching him looking. Grinned at him. Had they been together then? He couldn't quite remember. In some memories of their time together he couldn't remember exactly where they stood. Perhaps because they had always stood somewhere between together and not.

She had tried to take the framed piece of paper out of his desk drawer again and yet again he had made an appearance of trying to stop her before letting her seize it triumphantly. There was pleasure to be had in re-enacting some of the old routines. There was safety too because if they played the old games then there wouldn't be any mistakes. He couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

As she'd sat on his desk next to his chair, tapping the glass over the preserved list of professional rules, she'd pursed her lips together and frowned thoughtfully.

"You know, we should really add a new one."

"Lois, we're not adding a new one. It's perfect the way it is." She flashed a wide smile at him at that. They both knew he wasn't talking about the list, not really. It was one of those unacknowledged codes. Some days that comment could make her brow crease because things between them weren't so perfect but that day was a good day. And it made her smile. Making her smile gave him a thrill he always equated to the feeling when he left the ground and began to fly. It was a weightlessness in his stomach.

"Nope, because you still haven't learnt the most important rule of all. Clark Kent is always going to lose to Lois Lane. End of story." She grabbed a pen off his desk but he slipped it out of her grasp.

"I don't think so." He slid the frame out of her hand as well and closed it back into his drawer firmly. "When we're partners, I'm always a winner." She snorted in amusement and he smiled at her in return. He could always make her laugh by using a corny line on her. She slid closer to him in his chair and then swung a leg over so it hung between his own. She raised her eyebrows wordlessly and he'd stood up, put his hands around her waist and pulled her closer to him until her body was flush with her own. It was fortunate it was the holiday weekend and the office was deserted.

He took the opportunity to skate his fingers over the bare skin of her neck and down over her shoulder. When he looked back into her eyes there was a troubled look on her face, he'd upset her somehow.

"What's wrong?"

And it was to be the first and last time she had told him about the fear that she swallowed every time she walked into trouble.

He remembered perfectly the slight tremble in her voice, in her hands. The way she had bit her lower lip hard as the words were forced out. But she had looked him dead in the eyes the whole time. No matter how painful it had been, she had refused to back away from it. He could only pay her the same courtesy and face what she was saying as well.

Her words then and her expression now as she stared at him. Willing him to remember and understand. He knew what this look meant now. It was the final look. It was goodbye.

The woman stepped in next to Lois, obscuring her face for a moment. The needle was clear to see though. Entering her skin, the poison being administered.

"The other week, I nearly bought it in that shooting. It was close. It got me thinking. One day you won't be able to save me Clark. And the Blur won't be there to do it. One day I might run out of luck and get myself killed. One day we're both going to lose."

Her body jerked in Zod's hold, her head whipping to the side. Her teeth were gritted tight against a scream.

"If that day ever happens, I don't want to go knowing you won't be able to handle it."

As he strained against the hold they held him in, every inch of him burned as he saw her begin to choke.

"I know what happens when you lose someone you…you care about. You tear yourself apart with guilt. Don't deny that you walk around every day blaming yourself for mistakes you never made. Some days I even think you blame yourself for not saving Lex Luthor from himself. With us being…together…I'm terrified what you would do…"

Zod had now wrapped one arm around her shoulders and one round her waist as her body twisted and thrashed. Every muscle was taut, her eyes wide and glassy. The normally warm tone of her skin seemed to be leeching away.

"But I have to know you'll go on. Because I can lose everything but I can't die knowing I'll lose you. Does that even make sense?"

That day, he had studied the look in her eyes. He hadn't understood it. He hadn't known what it meant. He had studied the taut line her full lips had been pulled into. He had felt the long slim fingers that wrapped around his own hands, their usual warmth cooled for once. He had smelled the scent of her, the heat of her skin mingling with her shampoo, her perfume, her clothes. The sound of her voice then, low and quiet, tripping over syllables unlike her usual confident delivery. He had learnt so much about her and committed it to heart. But he didn't understand then, couldn't see the truth she was so close to voicing. Now it was clear. She had loved him and today she was saying goodbye. She was telling him to let go of her.

As soon as he knew this he saw her body go limp. He felt the breath leave her body as if it had been wrenched from his own. She crumpled into the General's hold, her hair cascading over his arm, her white fingers uncurling slowly. The raw look she had worn was softened into nothing now. There was no more smile to decode, no more tone to interpret. No secret looks, or exasperated glances, or sudden laughs.

The darkness pulled in tightly around him and everything was blotted out for a merciful second. But then it roared back into his eyes, his ears, his heart.

Clark looked at the lifeless body of the woman he loved. Lois Lane had created Superman, had written him into existence, drawn the lines that sketched his future so he knew how far he had to grow to meet them. She had brought him into life and now, with her death, Superman went with her.

"Promise me you'll keep fighting. Promise me you won't give up. Promise me."


	32. Chapter 32

Her body lay only six feet away from him. She was laid out on her back, her hands carefully positioned by her side. Zod had even pulled her eyelids down but Clark doubted it was because he felt guilt. No, he was preparing the way for his love. His ghost.

He should have been the one to do that. He should have brushed the strands of hair away from her tear-dampened cheeks. Even now those tears dried on her skin, the last parts of Lois evaporated into the air. Maybe if he breathed deeply enough he would take in those tears into his own lungs. One last touch. Because he couldn't move from the floor to her side. While he a part of him wanted to press his lips to hers, to feel her skin one last time, the idea also horrified him. How could he bear to feel her already beginning to cool under his fingers? What if she no longer tasted, smelt like she had? Then he would have to accept that she was gone. That Zod had obliterated her and was going to take what she had been and make a disgusting mockery of it.

Thinking about Zod was easier than looking at her body. Her bracelet, a gift from Chloe for her birthday. Her sneaker laces, tied into the double bow. Anything would have been easier than seeing these things but Zod was the one sight he believed could tear his eyes away. A towering wall of rage was building inside him and it could almost blot out her.

The General was standing by the tank, leaning over the computer and typing rapidly. He paused and then a robotic voice echoed around the room. The rest of the room's occupants seemed to flinch at the sound.

"I know who you want. She has been waiting for a long time."

A look of satisfaction crossed Zod's face.

"Then do it." There was a moment of hush and then a gurgling noise began. It grew in volume until he saw that Zod and the others were staring at the drain in the centre of the floor. A black liquid was bubbling up through the grate, splattering the virgin tiles around it. It seemed to boil in greater intensity and then burst up, landing on the ground and forming a thick, wet puddle. It expanded slowly, several Kandorians backing away it from nervously. Their leader merely watched in rapt fascination.

The liquid quivered at the edges as if sniffing out its prey, and then began to trickle towards Lois' body. A thin stream rolled closer to her. Clark stumbled to his feet but Zod called out to his men to hold him. This time they knocked him to the floor, pinning his shoulders and legs. He watched in horror as the ooze crept around her body and then began to climb up over her face towards her lips, her eyes, her nostrils. It slid inside her and then disappeared.

There was an expectant hush and then a shrill scream, torn from Lois' lips.

His heart lept for a moment as he saw her back arch off the floor, her hands clawing the floor. She had come back! She was back! But that thought was strangled as Zod rushed to Lois' side and embraced her tightly.

The scream subsided and Clark saw Lois' eyes flutter open. Her hands seek the face of the man holding her. From her cracked lips came a raw whisper,

"Husband."

Zod pulled back.

"Husband? Is it really you my love? After so long?"

"What did you say?"

"You look so different. But your eyes…" Her hand reached out and took hold of Zod's tag, the worn that born his crest. She ran her thumb over it, a reverential look on her face. "The House of Zod reborn." Zod stumbled to his feet, his face frozen.

"What is this?" He said wildly. Then he looked round to the tank and raged, "What is this!"

"I know your history General, the dead whisper to me. And she was so persuasive. Do you not want your wife returned to you?"

"Impossible," he breathed as Lois' body looked at him pleadingly. The look of raw need on her face, the way her eyes were filled with tears, the way her body arched towards him, all dispelled his momentary dream that Lois had returned. It was her body. But there was someone else inside it, and that somebody wasn't Faora. "How can this be? Krypton is…"

"Do you think that death is so like life? Do you think that we are tied to rock and stars here? This is the next world, not worlds." Zod narrowed his eyes.

"You never said you could bring back those we lost from back home!" The converted followers were beginning to look at each other, murmuring disbelief.

"You never asked." And the voice sounded unbearably smug, for all its artificialness.

"Why do this?" And he gestured towards Lois' body, her arms around her chest protectively.

"If I give you a gift then maybe you will free me. I want out." Zod nodded slightly at this justification, his attention already drifting back to the woman before him.

"Issa? Is it really you?"

"My love," and she rushed into his waiting arms, burying her head against his shoulder. Clark closed his eyes for relief from this torturous reunion and tried to control his breathing. His whole chest felt tight and his shoulder was throbbing louder and louder with every passing moment.

The former Sheriff spoke up suddenly, intruding on the intimate scene in front of her. "General…will Faora…?"

"She can wait Vala," Zod said in a clipped voice, dismissing what was now clearly Faora's sister with a glance. He didn't notice the look Vala exchanged with some of the others. But Clark did. Jor-El had explained some of Zod's history to him before the towers were destroyed. Though the A.I. delivered the information in its customary cold fashion, Clark was able to read between the lines, and see that Jor-El felt Zod's slide into mania had begun with the death of his first wife and child in Kandor, during the conflict with Black Zero. This devastating loss had also caused the rift between the former friends. Zod now seemed only too glad to relinquish Faora for a chance to be with his wife again.

But she was not Faora. Faora was well-loved by her comrades, her loyalty to Zod absolute. Zod had cast aside his most devoted soldier without hesitation.

"Issa, I never dreamed this was possible. But I'm not the man I was then. I'm old now." In the excitement, Zod seemed to have forgotten that the rest of the room was watching and listening to every word. The rage and twisted pleasure that had gripped him so recently had disappeared to be replaced with a vulnerability that Clark wouldn't have imagined possible. Clark felt a flicker of something inside him. It wasn't hope because that had a purity he couldn't connect to his feelings towards Zod. No, it wasn't hope, it was an opportunity.

Lois' body smiled widely, in a way that both was, and wasn't her. It was like the same part played by a different actor. Or hearing a song you love in a different language. He'd seen Lois possessed before of course, possessed by the Faora of the Phantom Zone. But this was different. Lois wasn't buried under someone else's mind, she had been wiped away. She was gone.

"Aren't I different? I don't even know my face. But what does that matter? We're alive my love. And that means we can start again, together. As a family." Zod grinned, actually grinned, and dipped his head towards his wife's to kiss her. Clark looked away again in disgust, trying desperately to clear his mind of any thought. But one traitorous one crept inside. He would never kiss her again.

Their last kiss had been that night in her apartment. As sweet as that had been, the sensation of her soft flips pressed against his, he had been lying to her that evening.

He was never going to be able to undo that lie.

Another thought kept him from breaking down again. He might have a chance to rip Zod's head from his shoulders.

Zod was telling his followers to return to their duties, his eyes never leaving his wife's, but Issa gestured for him to wait.

"We need them. We can't wait another moment."

"What for?"

"For our son of course," she laughed at his confusion.

Clark felt a flush of dread at the sound of that once-loved voice's amusement. He knew what Issa meant even if Zod didn't yet. He hadn't imagined that this woman could be as monstrous as her husband but was it possible she was worse?

"Issa…"

"You need to find us a child," she said to the waiting soldiers. "Eight years old. I think we want him to have his colouring if possible. The undead one said it can take several attempts can't it?" She turned to her husband again. "We might need several. They will need to be in excellent health." The others stared at her in dumbfounded silence. "He takes after his father, dark hair, dark eyes. Light skin. Tall for his age. I am sure you can find some suitable candidates. What really matters is he will back with us darling," she cooed to Zod.

The General looked at her, for a moment he seemed about to recoil from her side, his morality teetering on a knife's edge. But instead his eyes warmed and he smiled at her.

"Yes, yes. We can be a family again! Forgive me for not understanding Issa. You always had such a quick mind, you see the answer before I even hear the question." They beamed at each other, basking in parental joy. But the General's followers seemed less taken with the idea. They glanced at each other silently, their faces expressing their reservations. Even the cultists at the back of the room seemed shaken out of their torpor. The spark inside Clark brightened. The two men who had been holding him had now let go of him, their attention now on the escalating situation.

"General. You want us to bring you human children?" Vala's voice was coloured with disgust.

"I _order_ you to bring me children. Make your selections carefully, this is my heir."

"But General…"

"Why are you still standing there?" He shouted, his eyes sweeping over them. "You have your orders."

"Sir, our numbers are still low, we need to build up our strength," one of the men offered.

"I have all the strength we need for now," Zod sneered, his eyes glowing red. His soldiers didn't back away though.

"If our plan is to proceed on schedule we need…"

"Are you defying me? Are you trying to deny me my only child?" Zod asked with incredulity. "Me, who has torn you out of the darkness again and again? I gave you these lives, you are mine to command."

Issa, clearly noticing the building tension in the room, stepped forward and said in a placatory tone, "My love, perhaps they haven't considered the possibilities for themselves? After all, they must have lost those they cared about when Kandor was destroyed. Family they thought they would never see again."

"Exactly. Do you see what we can do? We can bring Kandor back to life, here and now!" Zod's voice was filled with almost religious fervour, his eyes sparkling and his chest thrust out. Usually his energy swept along those around him, as it had in the towers before Tess had deployed the Kryptonite gas. But this time they seemed unwilling to be pulled into his vortex.

"There are millions of vessels on this planet are they not?" Issa said eagerly. "We can resurrect every man, woman and child we lost. Krypton will be reborn."

"We only wanted to protect ourselves," Vala said aghast. "Not kill every human."

"You called yourself a Kandorian soldier," Issa hissed. "You swore an oath to protect the innocent. You all failed once and Kandor burned because of it! Now you have the chance to undo your mistake!" Vala shook her head and Zod was on her in an instant. Her grabbed her neck with one hand and forced her down to her knees.

"Kneel before Zod," he growled at her. Then he lifted his eyes to the others. "Kneel!"

But they hesitated.

"Do you see what he is now?" Clark called out as he slowly got to his feet. "Do you understand what he will do to this planet to serve his own needs? You're better than this, I know you are. This can't be the legacy of Kandor. It may have been destroyed but you carry the last remnants of it inside yourselves. Is that what you remember it as?"

"Your words mean nothing here traitor!"

"You're the one who has betrayed Kandor Zod," Clark ground out. "You pretend you care about them but you only care about yourself." He turned to Vala, still gasping for breath on her knees. "You can't let your grief destroy what you are. If you want to be loyal to someone, be loyal to the person you were when the dead knew you. Not him. Not this." He swallowed hard, remembering the promise she had made him give her, avoiding looking at the distorted echo that still stood so close by.

He hadn't been able to save her and the idea of fighting for everyone else felt uncharacteristically anathema to him. But she had asked him and he had answered. It was the last thing she had wanted from him, the one thing that she had needed to say to him before she died. She wasn't thinking of herself in that moment but of him and everyone else who was in danger. Her bravery, her selflessness had been even stronger at the end, when so many might have broken she remained resolute.

If he wanted to honour her, the woman like no other, he had to fight. It would just be easier if a shadow of her eyes weren't latched onto him.

He could see that Zod's people were wavering. The soldiers looked weary.

"This isn't how it should be Zod," one of the men who had been holding him said. He hadn't called him General. Zod recognised this break and his face grew cold and hard.

"Traitors, I'll deal with you later," he spat. His heat vision sprung into life and scored a path between his followers and himself. A wall of fire lept up, causing Clark to stumble backwards. He was trapped on the side with Zod and Issa. Zod looked ready to tear him apart but Issa's intensity seemed to have flattened out. She stared at him suddenly, and there was knowing look on her face. Zod began to walk towards him. "You've crossed me for the last time Kal-El. I'm going to rip your skin from your body."

"You can certainly try General," Issa drawled, her arms crossed over her chest. Zod turned to look at his wife.

"Issa…" But the woman pouted her lips at him in a mockery of a kiss.

"I'd have wanted to pick someone a bit hotter for my first kiss in years but I'll take what I can get," and she looked down at the drain. "Oh, hey, looks like this one has your name on it Kal-El." Black liquid was once again erupting from the floor but this time it moved more quickly. Before he could react the dark slick of ooze was at his feet and then racing up his legs, running over his stomach and up his chest towards his mouth. "Swallow your medicine Superman. It'll make you a big, strong boy again." Her words were drowned out as the liquid spilled over his lips, into the corners of his eyes and dripped into his ears. The rank taste hit him first, it was the smell of decay, like the rot of animal flesh in a stagnant pool. But then it was filling everything, cutting off his oxygen. He knew rationally that he could survive without oxygen for a long time but panic was taking over as the taste of death smothered him, and every choke seemed to allow it to roll its tendrils further through his head, his body.

Then the terror stopped abruptly as he felt his body suddenly relax, his pain dissipating, as if he'd eased into a warm bath. He knew what that feeling meant.

He opened his eyes, breathing hard and saw Zod looking uncertainly at him. He realised what it meant too late to prevent Clark's heat vision slamming into his chest and punching him through the wall into the next room. He flew after him, delivering a punch that knocked the soldier over just as he got to his feet. Zod smiled up at him through bloodstained teeth.

"I murdered the woman you love Kal-El, is that all you've got?" And Clark felt the dark wall he had built inside himself rise up and block out all light, all reason, entirely as he launched himself at Lois' killer. But while the element of surprise had enabled him to get the upper hand at first, Zod was quick to adapt to the new status quo. Quickly he established control again, toying with Clark as he allowed him to commit to a punch, a lunge, before speeding inches out of his path. His amusement only grew as Clark grew more enraged and less considered in his attacks.

Clark tackled Zod to the floor but the General seemed to effortlessly evade his grip and instead began to choke Clark, the lack of air not as concerning as the pressure being placed on his spine which felt dangerously close to splintering under the man's hands.

"I don't know how you did it but you stole my wife from me! You stole my soldiers!" Zod's eyes glittered. "She looked a little like this as she died, I'm sure you remember. Those pretty lips of hers went so blue." Just as Clark thought his skull was going to snap off his neck, Zod delivered an uppercut that sent him hurtling, limp, up through the ceiling, up through the earth that covered the lab and high up into the air outside.

He felt himself black out for a moment but when he landed with a crash on the ground he saw he was lying on his back in a field. The air outside was clear and fresh. The sun was beating consolingly down on him. He orientated himself quickly; he was only a few miles from his family's farm. He was only a few miles from the Talon, from the high school. From all the places that he had come from and loved to this day. Zod might best him it came to being a Kryptonian but he was something that Zod could never be.

He was from Smallville. And there was one thing Smallville had more than any other place on Earth.

Kryptonite.

Using his x-ray vision he saw what he was looking for in the birthing room. Several large lead-lined cylinders. He smashed back down through the ground into the room to find it empty. Issa was nowhere to be seen and the flames had almost petered out. All that was left was the tank and the supplies that kept it going.

Clark knew that Anna Turner's mutation was down to the meteor rock that had been fused with her bones during the meteor shower. The Kandorian scientists had managed to augment her abilities and control her by preserving her remains and pumping more of the rock through her desiccated veins. And there was only one good reason for Zod to cover something in lead.

Zod smashed back down through the ceiling, his lips drawn back in a snarl. But Clark sped towards one of the cylinders and swung it at him. Zod's head was knocked back as it connected with his jaw and he staggered backwards. He spat out some blood on the floor and smiled at his opponent.

"You're getting desperate Kal-El, you can't use the rock against me."

"I grew up around it Zod. I know I can take it. Are you so sure?" For the first time he saw Zod's confidence waver. The General cursed at him and flew back through the ceiling, deciding a tactical retreat from a room full of deadly Kryptonite was the better option. Clark grabbed another cylinder and flew after him, pleased to see Zod heading south. He closed in on him in under a second and ripped the canister in two, the green liquid inside suspended for a moment. He could feel his own body begin to react to the substance but before it could disable him, he expelled a deep breath from his lungs, directing the droplets towards Zod. The General was caught by surprise as the liquid coated his back and he began to tumble from the sky in shock. Clark scooped him up before he could impact and redirected him towards the landmark he had spied after emerging from the lab. He knew this town like no other. It was his home. And he knew the one place that could end this: the transformer station at the dam.

Zod was beginning to struggle against him and his own proximity to the Kryptonite was sapping his strength, so he increased his speed, hurtling into the building below them with ferocity. He took hold of the back of Zod's Krytonite-drenched collar with one hand and shoved him towards one of the huge transformers.

Zod screamed in protest, his hands desperately clawing at Clark's face, but it was too late. With his free hand he pulled loose a huge cable carrying the power of the dam below them, and wrapped his fingers around the exposed end. His vision turned white and he felt every cell in his body expand as if about to burst. Then the surge faded and he felt himself flying backward.

He crashed into a tree, breaking it off at the trunk. He slowly got to his feet, brushing wood fragments off his cape. The sounds of the world around him seemed to flood his brain. There was the fizzing sound of the damaged transformer station, the whipping branches above his head as the wind swept through them. There were the sounds of the animals around him, the crisp buzz of insects and the low calls of the birds. Further still were the sounds of traffic, of human voices. Calling out in joy and fear and ecstasy.

His awareness snapped back to where he stood. There was one sound he wouldn't hear again. Her voice.

Zod was lying to his left, groaning as he came round. His arm was broken and his collarbone fractured but he wasn't dead. Not yet anyway. He walked over to him, ripping the meteor rock impregnated jacket off his back and flinging it away. Zod cried out as the action jarred his injuries. Blood trickled from a gash above his eyes but still he glared at Clark with the same intense loathing.

"Finish it."

Clark balled his right hand into a fist. The malevolent face below him twisted into a smile.

"That's right, finish it!"

His knuckles showed so white under his skin, he felt as if the bones would burst through. This man had taken Lois. He had deprived her of her future, the life she was meant to have. Her family, her friends, all had been left with this void that could never be filled because there was nothing, no one like her. She was irreplaceable.

She had stood on that rooftop long ago, while one of his other victims lay dead in the parking lot below, and she had sworn she would write one last story about him. She had no idea that it would be the last story she wrote about anything. She had poured herself into those words, trying to defend him from the world, though he was the invulnerable one and she was the one who could be choked, could be poisoned, could be murdered. He remembered her fear, her pain. And he remembered the way she had looked when she opened the door to him on their first date, a smile curving her lips, a light dancing in her eyes.

"You took your time."

"Some things are worth the wait."

And now the wait would never be over.

He felt himself pull back his first for one final strike against Zod. But then he remembered his own words to the Kandorians about being loyal to the person the dead had loved. She had written that final article about a man she had faith in. As much as wanted his revenge, he couldn't betray that. She was more important than what he needed. He lowered his shaking hand and stared at Zod's disbelieving face.

"You have no idea what you've done," he said shakily, and turned away from him.

"Finish it you coward! Finish it! Do you think I won't come back! I can end you Kal-El, I can…" his words were cut off by a sudden gurgling sound. Clark looked over his shoulder. Zod was spluttering as the same black liquid bubbled out of his open mouth. It ran down his face as he finally lay still and dripped onto the mulch, only to be soaked up by the ground. Clark heard Shepherd's heart stop finally and turned away again. He began to walk back towards the dam, the sun still shining brilliantly down on him. People were now swarming around the plant, barking out orders to each other and trying to understand the damage. They double-taked when they saw him walking ponderously through their midst. His costume was burnt and smeared in blood. His cape shredded.

For the first time, he wasn't conscious that he was dressed like a superhero.

He wasn't really conscious of anything.

"Superman? Superman, what happened! Are you hurt?"

"I thought he was in China…"

"Superman can you help us with…"

"…fire in the…"

"Can you hear me?"

He looked out over the edge of the dam, seeing nothing of the landscape before him, listening to none of the voices.

He bent his knees slightly and launched himself into the sky, soaring higher and higher through the atmosphere until he broke free of it. Then he was in the emptiness, with the Earth at his back and only the sun in front of him.

She had been sitting on the porch swing at the farm, one leg tucked under her, one hanging free. Her hair swept behind her shoulders and the finest sheen of sweat on her skin. Beads of moisture collected on the glass of iced tea she held in one hand. She was shielding her eyes from the light with her other hand. It had been a long hot afternoon but she had refused to retreat to the greater cool of the house. She wanted to watch the sun she said. Then she'd reached out and obscured it with one palm, a small smile on her lips.

"You think if it's far enough way then maybe it would be small enough that you can block it out. But the light creeps between your fingers anyway."

He understood enough to know she was saying something more, but didn't understand enough to know what that more was. So instead of asking he had simply watched her as she tried to enclose the star that granted him his power in one hand. Of anyone, she would be the one to do it, to hold all his strength tight in her grasp.

He was surprised he was still able to fly at all, without her.

But the planet behind him still turned, and the porch swing would still shift in the breeze, and the phones in the Planet still ring. It wasn't right that it went on without her, it wasn't right that he had to, but it appeared it all still did.

He covered his eyes as he began to sob, the weight of it a crushing knowledge on his chest, every moment bringing tightening the steel band around his heart. He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, curled into a ball in the emptiness but a persistent noise intruded on his grief. It was a sound so familiar it cut through the other hum of the Earth. It was her heartbeat, the noise he had trained himself to distinguish from any other. It thrummed steadily, bringing him out of his depths with every beat.

Such a tiny thing to hang hope on, so far away it was almost inaudible. But as much as he might want to blot it out, it crept through. Perhaps it wasn't a cruel echo of her, intent on driving him insane. Perhaps it could be Lois Lane, defying all natural laws, just as she had said. She couldn't just end.

He directed himself towards the source of the sound and accelerated towards it, hurtling through the clouds and cracking the asphalt beneath his feet as he landed. She was standing only feet away from him, still beautiful but not in the same way. She glared at him, clearly displeased to see him, she had a bag slung over her shoulder. He hadn't understood in the birthing room but now it was clear to him what had taken place, the plan that had claimed Lois. The girl in the tank wasn't a hopeless pawn, channelling the spirits of the dead to Smallville. She was the voice crying out from the darkness of her confinement with all the rage she had gathered into her withered heart.

"Anna Turner."

"Your girlfriend was a lot smarter than you," she scoffed, "she worked it out pretty early on. I do put on a good show though, don't I?" And she smiled in a way Lois never would.

"There was no Issa."

"There was an Issa alright, and she whispered enough in my ear to make it work. They all talk to me in the end Kal-El."

"You know what I want."

"You got what you wanted, she got what she wanted, and now I get what I want." Had Lois known what would happen? She had known before he was brought from his cell that she was going to be used as a vessel, but had she conspired with Anna to act as a bridge that would allow the dead girl to destabilise Zod's control? Though the idea broke his heart, he thought it was probably true. She had known what might happen and she had gambled her life away.

"No."

"She knew the deal Clark, she signed her name in my big black book, and now I own this," she gestured at Lois' body. He stepped towards her, his hands curling into fists. "Uh uh uh, we both know you won't do it. You could never harm a hair on her head, could you? And now it's my hair and my head." Clark stared at her in frustrated anger. She was right of course, there was no way he could harm her, and he doubted he could force her to do anything. She had already shown powers and abilities that he couldn't have guessed at, including the ability to grant him his powers. Perhaps Zatanna would have some magic that would compel her to do as he asked but the girl had already proven herself extremely dangerous, could he risk anyone trying to cross her? That was, of course, if his friends were still alive. Though Zod had alluded to their destruction, he couldn't believe it, couldn't countenance it. Part of him knew he should fly to Alaska but he couldn't tear himself away from this woman and the possibility she offered. But how could he possibly get Anna to give up possession of Lois' body and return its owner? From his contact with the girl previously he knew she had become bitter and angry as a result of her imprisonment and torture, which was to be expected. Back then she had wanted nothing more than peace from her pain. But if she had deliberately drawn Lois to her death, then she had planned this possession carefully. The grave clearly wasn't as appealing a prospect as it had been.

"You have to give her back," he urged desperately. But the raw need in his voice failed to move her and she continued to smirk at him.

"And how are you going to make me?" He stared at her eyes, once so warm and now hard and indifferent. If Lois had been here, she would have been able to reach this woman, he was sure. She had talked round the most intractable sources. She knew when to back off and when to press an advantage. She knew how to use the full force of her personality to bear down on someone or how to draw out secrets with the lightest of glances. If she had been here, she would have the answer.

"I'm not. Lois is."

"She's going to have a hard time doing much of anything where she is." She turned away from him and began to walk away from him.

"Then you don't know her, she makes the impossible possible. She can make a man fly," he insisted, running in front of her.

Anna let out a growl of frustration. "I don't care Superman!"

"That's because you don't know her. Not yet."

Her body stood six feet away from him as the conviction hardened that if he could just tell part of the story of Lois Lane, Anna would understand that a life like that couldn't be erased. Light like that couldn't be blotted out.


	33. Chapter 33

Baron Bee: Hello to anyone who hasn't given up on me yet! I know I suck, it's been forever since I updated. Real life intruded and then I didn't know how to finish this story. I'm now reaaaaally embarrassed about the final few chapters in case they're sub-par but I am winding this baby up. Hope you like :)

* * *

On the first day, she had turned round and found she was standing in the middle of Maurie's storage facility, facing the back wall. The towers of boxes were in front of her and the slight illumination from behind told her the lamp was still on. At first she was surprised. Hadn't she just been somewhere else? But then, since she had only turned round, it made sense that she had been standing in the concrete room before she had turned around. Where else could she have been? So she accepted she had been there for some time and asked herself what then she might be doing there.

There was only one reason she could be there, and that was to look for the truth. That was what this place was for.

If she had the truth, then she knew what might be about to hurt her. The truth meant she could defend herself, make herself hard. She needed to be hard. She needed to be all grown-up.

She walked towards the first box, lying apart from the others on the ground. It had a number on the side. Eighty-seven. She scanned the timeline stuck to the wall and worked it out pretty quickly. Box eighty-seven was the day she met Clark Kent.

* * *

There had been brightness and pain rushing up to grasp her. Then it had faded to silence and she had waited again. Waited to be readier.

* * *

The next time she woke up a cold whiteness burned her eyes. She tried to turn her head away but the back of her neck was stiff, and the pain from her attempt was enough to make her gasp out loud. That's when she felt her hand lying by her side, and the warmth that encircled it tightening. A low quiet voice sounded close by.

"You're going to be okay."

She catalogued the aches and pains throughout her body so she could verify those words for herself. Her neck hurt, her head ached and her arm felt like it had branded. The rasp of the bed sheet as she moved seemed too loud, the gown she was wearing seemed to graze her skin every time she let out a breath and everything was just too, too bright. She supposed this would pass but she wasn't certain she was going to be okay. It felt like she was never going to go back to being okay. He was lying to her. Again.

She cautiously turned her head. It was enough to catch sight of him, sitting by her bed. One hand was tangled with her own. The other was bunched in the covers. His normally sharp eyes seemed dulled. His face darkened by long shadows. His suit didn't seem to fit him properly, and this from a guy who could normally rock spandex.

"You don't look too good," she said, her own voice sounding strange to her ears. It was like listening to it on her voicemail; thinner and higher than she thought it should be. Weaker.

A thought suddenly came to her. She had been somewhere before she had woken up. Somewhere she couldn't quite remember. Wherever it had been she didn't think there had been hospital sheets or strip lighting and she didn't think she had felt so uncomfortable there. Already like a dream it was losing its edges and the details were being smeared into just a sense she had been somewhere else. The tighter she tried to grab hold of the idea, the more it slipped away so she turned her attention back to him.

His face had taughtened into what could have been a smile if it didn't look so damn miserable.

"Talking straight as always Lane. How do you feel?"

"Like I was dead," she said thickly as she thought about things before the dream-place. She closed her eyes tightly. Tears were starting to collect. Hadn't she already cried? Yes, she had cried when she had been awake before. On a road, at twilight. The air had seemed to caress every nerve ending until her whole skin felt electrified, painfully so.

He had been there.

They had been alone. He had held her against him as she had come undone. She had cried until she had slipped back into darkness. Part of her had been afraid of going back there, and part of her relieved.

Before she had surrendered again to unconsciousness, he had whispered things in her ear, things she knew had been half-mad ravings. She didn't want to remember all the words but they had bored into her brain.

She had been brought back to life on that road, in his arms. It wasn't like she had been dead, it was…

"You were dead." The shadows in his eyes deepened further as he admitted the truth. She had died. He had watched her die.

"But I'm not anymore." That didn't sound as much like a statement as she'd have liked. This could be another dream. An afterlife maybe. Or the last firing neurons of her brain as that poison slid into her arm tricking her into this delusion. Her body was lying on the floor of the birthing room now and Clark was going to die. It was all over.

"No, you're alive." His words put a stop to that train of thought. When he said something, it was true. Except when he was lying. He told a lot of lies. "The others are all alive as well."

"How did you do it?" She had opened her eyes again but she wasn't looking at him anymore. The painful glare of the lights above her was easier to bear than the sight of his face right now.

"After I stopped Zod, she tried to leave, Anna Turner. She was just going to walk away from everything but I had to talk to her. She took over your body after you…when Zod poisoned you."

"I know, we'd discussed it. It was the whole point of me going down there."

"You sh…" He stopped abruptly but she knew what he'd been about to say.

"It was my call to make Clark," she said with anger. "You make decisions like that every day so don't tell me I shouldn't."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just…" there was a deep exhalation. "Lois, I thought you…"

"I need to sleep now," she cut in as he sounded about to crumble.

"You…okay. Okay. The others wanted to…"

"Turn out the light when you go. It hurts my eyes." His hand slid out of her own. He bent over her but she screwed her eyes shut tightly. He hesitated, his breath a soft presence on her cheek, before pulling away without the intended kiss.

When he reached the door, the light clicked off.

"Sleep tight Lois," he said softly and closed the door behind him.

But sleep wasn't going to come. Instead she lay on her back and stared at the ceiling above her.

She hadn't asked him more about Oliver and the others. She hadn't wanted to hear about what happened in Alaska. Normally her ambivalence would have bothered her and today it seemed it didn't. She couldn't work up the energy to consider the issue more than this. Instead her thoughts were in the past. She flickered between one memory and the next.

Maurie and the day he was buried. The pain he'd been in before he'd slipped away. Jimmy and Chloe's wedding day and what happened at the reception. Walking away from Clark and Lana towards the medi-vac, taking her away from that moment when they had almost become something more than they were. Watching the video of Rachel being murdered by Styson and the look on her face as she walked towards her own death. Her phone calls with the Blur, the transforming effect they had on her life. Making her feel that she could be part of something greater than herself.

The moment she first laid eyes on Superman.

He had looked at her with some much intensity that day she'd felt raw. But now, now she knew what he had been asking her with his eyes. He had wanted her to recognise him. Despite it all, he had wanted her to see him for who he truly was.

Watching him hurt himself as he tried to get to her in that horrible room. The broken look on his face. His hopelessness. That had hurt worse than anything.

But what did any of that matter now? It had happened. She had died and now she was back.

It was just that she didn't feel much of anything except a bone-deep anger. No, she wasn't going to be falling asleep any time. She was just going to wait in the dark. Wait until she was okay.

* * *

On the second day she had begun to read about a childhood. She had sat in Maurie's old chair and curled her legs under her, biting the nail on her thumb down to the quick. The stories were ones she knew but they sounded different on the page. The intonation and cadence was off. Things jumped from year to year, weaving connections she wouldn't have made. Some she thought were plain wrong. Some made her feel shattered. And there were the ones that made her smile wistfully as sweetness cut through her, or issue short abrupt laughs.

There were fights over pop-tarts and stolen kisses behind surplus stores and long drawn out afternoons where she ranged across a kingdom that was in turns familiar and terrifying and all hers. There was the surge of resentment over the squalling, boring _thing_ that was in her old room and there was the surge of something warm as it responded to her voice and tried to twist and turn to see her.

There was hurt and loss and the huge figure of a father who seemed to look at her and see something lacking.

Best of all there was a woman who smiled at her and held her so close she didn't care she couldn't breath right.

* * *

"…want to see me."

"You're being ridiculous Clark, she's just tired okay! I don't think she's sleeping at all."

"Chloe, you saw her in there. She won't even look at me. Just let it go."

"I can't bear to see you like this. You look awful."

"That's what she said when she first woke up." There was some quieter talk again and then another voice came in. Ollie.

"It isn't like you to give up like this Clark. We're all worried about you."

"I'm fine."

"You're not. And neither is she. Not right now. But you're going to fix this, you're going to be okay."

"Nothing is going to be okay, don't you understand that?" Clark snapped at him. There was a momentary silence. "I have to go. House fire. She's awake now."

There were sounds of movement behind the door and then it swung open. Lois wondered if she could convince anyone she was asleep again just by closing her eyes and ignoring them. She chastised herself for acting like a little kid but she really, really didn't want to hear whatever her cousin was about to tell her.

The blonde closed the door carefully behind her, an uneasy smile pasted on her face. She was in remarkably good shape considering Zod had claimed to have obliterated her and the others. The whole team had come through Alaska relatively unscathed, though Impulse had broken his arm and Ollie had worried doctors for a while with a head injury. But the General hadn't added the heroes to his already considerable body count.

Clark had even been able to talk Anna into returning most of the Smallville people and the cultists back into their bodies. The Kandorians had collapsed without Zod, weary of continuing to fight for an existence so far from the things they had once understood. Lois thought they were honestly heart-broken. She understood what it was to have your trust shattered.

Anna had been unable to return five people however. Three inmates and two townspeople. Some times dead was dead.

None of the remaining un-recruited Fellowship members had been located. They all knew Clark's secret. Every one a potential threat to him. To them all. That was what it meant to be inducted into the superhero club.

Chloe sat beside her. The earlier meeting when they'd all bundled enthusiastically into her room had not gone well. She could tell by the end of that stilted conversation that they were all looking between her and Clark with concern. Smallville had just stood there, his face drawn into a grey mask.

She didn't care.

"Hey Lo, you're looking better today."

"I'm checking myself out tomorrow," she replied. There wasn't going to be any argument about that. Though news of her resurrection was limited to a very few doctors, all hand-picked by Oliver to be tight-lipped, they were still in a frenzy about her case even though they wouldn't be getting an article out of it. She supposed she should appreciate their pursuit of knowledge from a professional perspective. But as dedicated to the truth as she was, at least she never put her interviewees through an MRI machine. Though maybe she shouldn't be so quick to take it off the table.

"Surprised you held out this long," her cousin smiled brightly. Perhaps she'd decided in advance to pick her battles.

"Yeah. Well," Lois said flatly.

Chloe shifted uneasily in her chair. The two of them didn't normally have uncomfortable silences. She didn't care.

"Lois…I'm worried about you."

"And here it is," Lois sighed.

"Hey, this isn't like you. Being snatched from the jaws of death is an occupational hazard for you, even when that occupation was bad waitress. What's going on?" Lois looked over at the blonde and debated whether she should tell her what was on her mind. Some of what was on her mind.

"Clark is a liar." Chloe looked surprised and then shook her head.

"You told me a long time ago that if someone you love is keeping something from you then you have to give them the time to come to you with the truth. Do you remember that?"

"You were talking about him, weren't you?" Of course she had been, Clark had put her poor cousin through years of hell because of his lies.

"He never told me who he was Lois, well, not before I found out for myself. There's something you don't know about why he does this."

"Think I've got a handle on that, the guy was dropped off by the alien stork."

"That's not it." Despite herself Lois felt her interest surge a little. She wanted the story. At least Zod hadn't killed that, no matter else what damage he had done to her. "Do you remember the night Jonathan Kent won the election?"

"Of course. He died that night."

"And you almost did." Chloe paused and looked towards the door. "I wouldn't be telling you this if it wasn't…I can't see the two of you like this. That night, you were almost electrocuted."

"Sure, Clark found me." Lois corrected herself. "Which of course means Clark actually saved me. I need to rewrite my entire personal history from the moment I met him."

"He asked Lana to marry him that day." Lois felt her mouth gape open. She'd known Clark was a traditional guy at heart, and when he'd been younger he'd been locked into an orbit around her like she was the sun itself. But she'd never heard anything about a proposal. Clark married to Lana? Though once she'd thought it was inevitable, thought _they'd_ been inevitable, the idea that he'd asked her made her stomach twist uncomfortably. But then she reminded herself that it was irrelevant. Clark hadn't married Lana, and really, he could marry Shelby for all she cared. "Before he did, he told her the truth about himself."

"You said…"

"Hold on. He told her the truth about himself and that night, while the celebration party was going on, she went to see Lex because he was taking the defeat hard. He worked out that Clark had told her the truth. They argued. He drove after her in his car and there was an accident."

"Wait, wait, this didn't happen. I didn't drink that much champagne at the Talon."

"Lana died and Clark couldn't accept it. He blamed himself for the accident. So he used Kryptonian technology to undo the whole day. He did the day all over again."

"Time travel?" Lois frowned. Turned out there was a precedent for her trip to the future after all. Here she'd thought Clark had lived a narrow existence before joining the Planet and seeing the world, but in fact he was bending the laws of time and space before breakfast. "Okay. But then…he didn't tell her on his do-over, did he? He never proposed." She shook her head. He was so much more messed up than she had ever realised. How hadn't she seen all this damage in all these years?

"It was the break that they never really repaired. She ended up with Lex and things after that…I don't think it was ever the same between them." She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "But there was a price to pay for going back. He was warned not to do it but he was so desperate to save Lana that he ignored it."

A cold feeling settled over her skin. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? It doesn't work like that Chlo. Mr Kent's death was an accident, it wasn't some cosmic balancing act. That's just sick."

"Clark has always seen it that way."

"He told someone his secret and someone died." Chloe looked at her with relief, as if believing that Lois had made some kind of critical break-through. "Bullshit." Her cousin stared at her. "It's bullshit."

"Lois, he lost his dad."

"And I lost my Mom! You don't think there's a part of me blames myself? But it's an excuse to try and protect yourself from being hurt, from being left again! He is such a coward."

"Lois!" Chloe looked horrified by her words but she'd been so sucked into his warped worldview she couldn't see this for all it was. Terry had been right. Clark Kent was the biggest liar she had ever met! The rage blossomed in her chest and made her kick off her covers and slide out of her bed. She stood on shaky legs and turned her attention to the last thing holding her back. All she could think of her was getting out of this place and its suffocating atmosphere. She pulled the sensor off her finger sharply and the machine beside her bed began to emit an even more shocked noise than her cousin. She realised her mistake as soon as a gust of wind whipped her robe around her and two steel hands clamped around her arms.

"Are you okay?"

The machine had betrayed her of course, alerting him from half-way across the city. Wherever she was, a part of him was left behind to watch over her. She looked into his frantic face and felt her fury fanned even stronger.

"Let. Me. Go." He stepped back abruptly, a flash of surprise showing on his face before being concealed. Instead there was the finest sheet of icy control. He was barely holding it together, why didn't that bother her more? "She doesn't get why you're a liar. This isn't about some bullshit pretence you're the boy next door, or the glasses, or even the hundred ways you betrayed me every day. Though God knows that doesn't help. It's about what you promised me!"

"I don't understand," he confessed. His confusion felt like a rub on a raw wound. How could he forget this broken promise? The one thing she had asked him, the last thing she had asked him.

"You promised me you would carry on. And you're broken."

"Lois, you're being…" Chloe interjected but Clark cut her off with a gesture.

"No Chloe. She's right." He looked down at the floor for a moment so she couldn't see him struggle with her words. When he raised his head, he appeared resigned. "I understand." The tone of his words confused her but she couldn't put her finger on what it was that evaded her.

"Good. Then you know that we're done." There was a flicker of something again in his eyes and then a long moment as he seemed to be trying to find the right words. In the end he settled for a short nod. "Then get out of my way." He stepped to one side with a hard swallow and didn't try to stop her. No one did as she walked with halting steps all the way out of her room, off the ward, and right into the back of a cab wearing nothing more than a hospital bracelet and a thin gown.

By the time they pulled up outside her apartment the driver had to help her to the door because she was sobbing so hard.


	34. Chapter 34

On the third day she read about being kidnapped. She read about being locked into a bank vault, about sitting, and waiting, and knowing with increasing certainty that no one was going to save her. But more importantly, that no one was ever going to pick her. She was always going to be second. They didn't love her enough to stick around and he didn't love her enough to even show up.

She understood she was always going to be alone.

* * *

The notepad lay in her lap, a fresh page still blank except for an angry scribble in the corner.

The pen had been pressed so hard she'd torn the paper.

She had writer's block. It was like the huge stone pressing down on her chest was smothering her ability to string a sentence together. Crushing her ability to think clearly as well. It had taken her half an hour searching for her laptop before she remembered it was in her car. As for trying to work out where her car was, she wasn't even going to bother.

She sighed and banged her head back against the wall. After she'd woken up from her nap she'd caught sight of her pad on the nightstand and realised she hadn't written the story yet. Whenever she left the hospital she always wrote the story that had landed her there. Only a handful of those articles had ever been filed but she didn't care. It was her little secret, the way she dealt with yet another close shave. By the time she'd filled the first page she always felt lighter, even if she had a pack of painkillers she'd be obliged to swallow with her breakfast every morning for a week, or if a scratchy scab was forming over scrapes and grazes.

This time the words wouldn't come.

Instead she wrote in big bold letters:

TO DO.

She needed direction, she needed focus, ergo she needed a TO DO list.

After all there were always a million things she never got round to doing because she was running over town after the Caped Mistake. But the thought of coming back from the dead to settle her credit card didn't appeal. This wasn't about the small stuff. So she added:

WITH MY NEW LIFE.

That was more like it. If she wanted to step away from her anger and all the broken promises, she needed to look to the future. Maybe then she would start to sleep properly at night again. When she was awake, she tortured herself with memories and when she finally caved into unconsciousness she had bizarre dreams about a room and endless boxes filled with stories she didn't understand but that were all about her.

She just needed to clear her head.

1. Stop writing about Superman

She looked at this again and decided this wasn't the right approach. He wasn't going to shape her life any more, even as a negative. She crossed that out and replaced it with:

1. Start writing about international politics

She didn't have a particular interest in international politics and there were several staff members who already had that gig but those were _details_ and this was about the big picture. She was already feeling enthused, she was being positive, she was being Superman-free and the sky was her limit.

2. Run Metropolis Marathon this year.

She chewed the end of her pen and then added in two quick corrections, 'half' and 'next'. That was a little more reasonable.

Mind and body were covered. Now she just needed to add some specific pointers:

3. Stop drinking Tequila

4. Learn to cook

They'd appeared on her New Year's resolutions lists for the last four years running, so for consistency's sake they needed to go on there. She studied the rest of the page and wondered whether she should add anything about dating. Perhaps a prohibition against dating men with double lives. Or perhaps something about not dating guys from work (she didn't have a good track record with that one). Maybe she shouldn't date guys with double lives who she worked with and who had lied to her and who...

She might as well write 'don't date Clark'. But this was supposed be about her, not him. She pushed the list away with a sudden dismay. She hadn't really articulated the thought fully before now but the list would never make sense unless he was on it. If it was about her, it was about him. And the thought made her desperately sad. How was she supposed to cut him out of her life again if she couldn't even make it to point five without mentioning him? How was she supposed to do this?

She looked round her bedroom, and every piece of furniture, every knick knack, every item of clothing covering her floor had a Clark association. The desk he had helped carry into her apartment, the dress he had complimented, the abstract print he teased her was hung upside down. The dozens of pictures of them together, the hundreds of stories they had written as a team, the thousands of hours she had wasted with him.

How was she going to push him out of her heart when he was embedded in her life so deeply?

She picked up her cell and checked her missed calls. Chloe had called a dozen times already. Oliver five. Perry had even called her twice. She decided to ring her boss back, maybe there was a number five that could be Kentless if she could get a favour from him.

As she listened to the ringing she noted to herself with a dark satisfaction that **he** hadn't called her once.

"Perry?...Yes, it's me, I'm all healed up...No, reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Mostly exaggerated. Didn't you read Chester's story, he harassed me enough in my hospital bed to get it...No, that was a joke, he brought me grapes for heaven's sake...I loved your flowers, almost as much as my morphine drip, look Perry, can I ask you something? I want to take some time off. I'd be no good to you right now anyway, to be honest, my head's not sorted yet...No, nothing that serious...are you kidding? I hate that shrink Perry...I know she's a nice woman but she asks me questions about my feelings, wouldn't you hate her? Besides, she told me I had a death wish...No...No, that was one time and I was hypnotised by that evil stage magician as you well know...Perry, I just need a holiday okay? Some cocktails, some sun lotion, maybe a book about zombies or sharks or Hollywood starlets or all of the above...That a yes then?...Excellent, thanks Perry, I totally owe you." She felt some of the pressure inside her ease at the idea of not having to go to work tomorrow. This wasn't running away from everything exactly. This was a strategic regrouping so she could work on her new life. Then the editor asked her a question that threatened to snatch the air out of her lungs once more. "No...Clark won't be coming."

* * *

Lois looked at herself in the mirrored wall at the back of the elevator. She'd decided to come in extra early today for her first day back in an attempt to avoid being bombarded with questions all at once. The articles on Shepherd and Smallville had been running every day for the last ten days, partly because the story refused to be neatly explained and the press were working themselves into a frenzy trying to batter down the 'no comment' coming from the government and the defence department and every other institution. It couldn't last too much longer, there wasn't enough oxygen left to sustain it but there was still the possibility that Superman was going to come out with a statement. So far he'd said little to nothing about his kidnapping and the possibility of other super-powered beings appearing on the planet.

She didn't want him to say anything. She wanted it to all go away.

She squared her shoulders and brushed her hair off her face. She'd spent ages in front of her wardrobe trying to work out what outfit said, 'over it' emphatically enough. It hadn't been entirely successful because though she now had a great tan it couldn't conceal the fact she still looked like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. While she'd hoped to leave her Superman woes behind in the sun, the plan hadn't panned out. Instead she had spent all day by the pool and all night in her hotel room thinking about him and crying over him more often that the other guests thought indicative of good mental health.

They'd started looking nervous about serving her cocktails on the second day, so she'd had to get righteous on their asses.

She kind of wished she had a cocktail in her hand right now, even if it was before six.

"And now I'm a lush," she muttered under her breath as she exited at her floor. As she walked rapidly towards her desk, she tried to subtly scan her surroundings for Kent sightings but, thankfully, he seemed to be absent.

She sank into her seat gratefully and chucked her purse at her feet. Now she knew he wasn't around, she was able to look around her openly and assess the mood in the office. There were only a handful of people already in, most of them looked like they'd pulled all-nighters so hopefully they didn't have the energy to interrogate her.

In fact only one person looked like she was totally awake. And that person was zeroing in her like a cruise missile in a silk jumpsuit and stilettos.

"Lois, you look amazing!" Cat perched on the edge of her desk and flounced her hair. She was dressed for combat, if a yacht party could be considered a front-line. She peered closer at her an innocent expression. "I hardly even noticed those circles under your eyes until I was two feet away. You are so good with your make up! Maybe you should work on the fashion desk." Then she frowned sweetly. "Sorry, what am I thinking? I know you're above things like being well-dressed, not your scene."

"Where's the muffin basket to go with this warm, warm welcome? I feel almost as moved as I am when I read one of your articles. Oh, whoops, did I say article? What was I _thinking_?"

Cat smirked at her as if satisfied the necessary traditions had been upheld.

"Heard you were in Hawaii."

"You'd think you were a reporter," Lois smiled back as she turned on her computer.

"Clark didn't go to Hawaii."

"Again with the facts, careful Cat, you'll start changing people's minds about you."

"I tried cheering him while you were away," and she crossed her legs in a way that communicated exactly how she liked to raise spirits.

"Good for you." Cat looked at her sharply.

"Didn't work though, the guy is so down I don't know how he's still filing legible copy. It's like he's on autopilot."

"Good for him."

"Something happened between the two of you, didn't it?" Lois snapped her jaw shut and turned round to look dead on at the reporter.

"Did it ever occur to you that not everything is about damn Clark Kent? I am not his keeper." Lois realised too late that her tone had been far too bitter and far too angry. Cat looked shocked. She was going to have to keep a handle on her feelings about Clark at work. Most people in the office respected him and a good number thought he was the last decent man left in Metropolis. She was going to appear genuinely crazy if she started getting mad at him when they hadn't even been dating and he'd been apparently kidnapped by a possible alien cult. That was Clark's cover story; the kind of truth, that he'd been kidnapped by Senator Shepherd. Unfortunately you weren't allowed to hate on kidnap victims you were supposed to be buddies with.

None of these people was ever going to realise what a huge liar he was.

She looked round at them suddenly and realised that they would never truly know him. Only a small number of people ever could. She felt a sudden, foreign feeling of pain on his behalf but was glad to feel it fade just as quickly.

"Not his keeper? Do you really believe that?" Cat was looking at her with incredulity. "You own that man, heart, body and soul."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lois snapped.

"No Lois, I'm serious. Clark had been walking around like a dead man for over a week. Even after you dumped him last time he didn't look like this and now you turn up looking almost as wrecked. When are you going to get it?"

"Get what?" She looked at her with confusion and Cat laughed.

"I finally get to explain something to the great Lois Lane." She shook her head. "Do you think I ever really thought I had a shot with Clark? It has always been about you and him, always, even when you were 'just friends'."

"We're not together, we will never be together," Lois said angrily, her cheeks burning. She felt furious that Cat was sitting there trying to lecture her on her former relationship with Clark but also embarrassment that it was so seemingly obvious that once they had been 'Lois and Clark'. She'd thought she'd convinced the whole world, including herself, that they were good friends who had once had a temporary madness and dated. But it seemed like their friends stage had been some kind of sham to everyone.

Just as it had been to her.

Her mouth felt dry as she recognised once again the enormity of what she had lost. It had all been about him, whether she thought he was Superman, or whether she thought he was Smallville. Whichever he was, it was all about him.

"If you really mean that then you're stupider than I gave you credit for. Grow up and get over it, before I help him get over you." And with that she stalked off.

Lois stared after her aghast. Had Cat just laid down the gauntlet? Her and Clark?

She was welcome to him. Maybe he could break someone else's heart for once. She glanced across at his desk, almost wishing he was occupying his seat so she could glare at him. Then she noticed the greasy food wrapper crunched into a ball sitting next to his keyboard. And the Chicago Cubs mug filled with chewed pens.

Reaching across the divide she grabbed the nameplate resting on the corner and turned it round so she could read it. TIM GROSSMAN.

He had switched desks. He'd gone.

And she was glad. Now she wouldn't have to stare at his face across from her every day. She wouldn't have to try and change all her shifts so she was away from him as much as possible. She wouldn't hear his voice, smell him, touch his shoulder when she asked if he wanted coffee and hey, so did she, so how about he go out and get them both some.

Whatever, she wouldn't have to do any of it.

She was glad.

* * *

It was three days before she saw a glimpse of him. He was walking ahead of her on the street as if he was heading towards the Thai Café they both liked. She'd been about to turn on her heel and walk straight back to work when she saw him dart between the crowd and disappear down an alley.

Before she'd had time to ponder that manoeuvre, a cry had gone up from the people about her and a blue and red streak had flashed above her head. She felt her heart do a quick leap, as if always had at the sight of him in action. Then she gritted her jaw. It was over. He had lied. There was no place any more for her infantile idolisation of her ex-boyfriend. She had wasted enough years on that man.

After that, every time she turned on the television she seemed to catch footage of him saving people from whirlpools and armed robberies like he didn't even have a day job. Newscasters and pundits were still speculating about his disappearance and the black blur that had appeared in China but she hadn't been listening to any of that chatter. Instead she'd stare at the pictures of him and wonder. How could he still make her heart race after everything? Why was she still the same pathetic woman who was going to end up as a footnote in the history of Superman? So she decided she would do something she hadn't done in her entire journalistic career. Stop watching the news.

The next morning after that decision she'd come to realise that not only wasn't that not going to work because A: she worked at a major newspaper, it also wasn't going to work because B: every paper in the country had splashed with an amazing image of Superman cradling a baby, a freaking five hour old newborn, in the crook of his arm, gazing down at the screaming kid like it was the most precious thing in the world. All while holding up a collapsing roof.

The Planet's headline was 'All alone in the universe?' It was all about speculation on whether there were other Kryptonians in existence but she felt like it actually had a far more accusatory, personal meaning. Like she was a bitch for freezing out a guy who saved babies.

She was still staring at the infuriating picture when she'd collided with Clark in the copy room. His hands had come up instantly to steady her as she staggered back. For a moment she luxuriated in the old forbidden feeling that his hands had always given her before scrunching the paper in her hand and staring up into his eyes.

He let go of her and obediently stepped back. He looked awful. He had looked terrible in the photograph as well. Maybe no one else would see it but she knew. Underneath that perfect steel façade was a man in pain. As Clark Kent it poured off him in waves, as if it had its own reek. His suit still hung off him strangely, his hair was a mess and the ridiculous glasses even looked dirty. He usually polished those things compulsively. But he looked straight back at her and gave her the faintest of smiles.

"How's your arm feeling?"

She gaped at him, this most innocuous of questions completely throwing her off. He should be angry with her. Why wasn't he mad? She was a bitch who froze out guys who saved babies. Even if this was his fault.

"Better."

"How was Hawaii?"

"How was Hawaii? How was Hawaii?"

"Yes, how was Hawaii?"

"How was Hawaii!"

"Well if you don't want to tell me Lois…" he shrugged.

"You are so unbelievable, I don't even know where to begin!"

"Somewhere other than Hawaii?"

"Are you laughing at me?" The ghost of a smile disappeared.

"No. Just at this. Us."

"_Us_. What is there to laugh about?"

"If I didn't laugh, I'd cry," he laughed bleakly. She paused, some of the venom retreating from the back of her mouth.

"Why did you move desks?"

"I'm hot-desking," he said, looking awkward.

"The Planet doesn't do hot-desking Clark."

"I moved because I knew you wouldn't want to come to work if you had to stare at me across the desk. Or not look at me across the desk."

"Can you blame me? Don't make me out to be the bad guy in all this, I'm not the liar." He sighed and moved towards the door, locking it quickly. Once that noise had heralded something that would make her toes tingle. Now she wasn't sure if he was trying to give them some privacy or keep her from running away from him. But she wasn't to blame for that. It was all his fault.

"Lois, the bad guy is dead. Zod is dead. I'm not angry with you for anything."

"But why not?" She sobbed suddenly. As angry as she was with him, the sight of him wrenched at her insides. He was broken and she had broken him. It was the thing she had feared above all, the thing she had made him promise. She had died and she had broken him.

He cupped her face with his hands and smiled at her in what would be a rather sweet manner if he didn't look half-crazy with pain. "Because you're alive! I prayed and prayed I could get you back and you're here! I can hear you heart beating in your chest and it's the best…the sweetest sound I…" He dropped his hands suddenly, a look of regret on his face. "Don't you see, I could never be angry with you. I thought I'd lost you."

"You have," she said quietly. He looked into her eyes, his expression torn between pleasure and pain.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

She shoved him away from her abruptly.

"How dare you! What reality are you even operating in? You broke your promise to me, you promised me you would go on without me…you promised you would keep fighting!"

"I did keep fighting, and I still am. Fighting for us Lois, to have the second chance I know I don't deserve but that I want more than anything."

"A second chance, are you crazy?"

"No. I'm thinking more clearly than I have in years. I ran from this for so long, scared about losing you if I was honest about who I was. But I was a fool. I almost lost you for good down there. I can't sleep at night for thinking about it," he shook his head. "It's tearing me apart trying to give you space when I…"

"Give me space! You're on the front of the damn newspaper every day, I can't get away from you! How can I ever get away from you!" She clamped her hand over her mouth as she realised what she had said, no, screamed, at him. Was she trying to tell the whole world he was Superman? The tears welled up in her eyes again and she screwed them tight, taking a deep breath. "Can't you just get out of my head and leave me alone," she pleaded.

He looked at her as he had in the hospital. He seemed to be at war with himself, his hands almost moving away from his sides to reach for her, words almost on his lips. But he didn't move and he didn't say anything. He just nodded.

She whispered, "Thank you." She turned round and unlocked the door. As she was pressing down on the handle he said quietly,

"If you want to talk, you just have to call me. I will always be there." She steadied herself and left without a backward glance. Why didn't he understand that that was what she was so afraid of?


	35. Chapter 35

It wasn't often that words failed Lois Lane. Put a gun to her head, and she could spin a line that could sometimes be enough to talk her way out of a bullet in her brain. Lately it had seemed that her most potent weapon had deserted her. Her stories really sucked. They were as lifeless as her expression in the mirror. Perry was growing exasperted and had almost kicked her off a story on the mayoral opening of the new penguin house at the Zoo before she'd even written it. God knows she had tried to restore his faith and inject some pizzazz into the penguin stuff but from the look he had given her after she had filed, she had not succeeded.

And in the last week, Cat had managed to out-smart her in a conversation twice. Twice! It was getting embarrassing. But worst of all had been when the General had called and asked her about Clark. The man he loved to hate.

A blithe, carefree sentence had died in her mouth. Instead she had let out a tiny yelp, the kind that proceeded a full-on onslaught of sobbing.

Lois had had no choice but to hang up on her father.

She didn't understand what was causing the problem. When she and Clark had broken up years ago her prose had been so scalding and forthright that the Chief had been on the phone to the Planet's lawyers daily. But now they seemed to trickle out of her hands.

Chloe had taken pity on her and suggested a girl's night in. Things between them had been rather cool of late given that Lois refused to discuss her decision to excise her ex from her life. But her cousin's suggestion had been so warm that Lois had been powerless to resist it. She hoped it would be just the thing to help her regroup but instead it had only demonstrated how far from herself she really was.

It had started out innocently enough; a bottle of wine, some popcorn, a few DVDs. Chloe hadn't even mentioned Clark until the credits began to roll on the first film. But once she had, things began to escalate very quickly. Chloe had casually mentioned that Clark seemed a little depressed. Lois had just as casually responded that she wasn't responsible for Clark Kent's emotional state. Chloe had suggested gently she might have a little something to do with it. Lois had suggested less gently that her cousin kindly butt out.

Then Chloe had offered, less of a suggestion, more an angry retort, that Lois was totally out of her mind, and she needed to fix things before she sabotaged the most important relationship in her life. In her opinion.

Lois had told her what she could do with her opinion and that had pretty much broken up the night's activities.

Before she'd left, Chloe had pointed out that she'd dumped Clark the first time because he'd put Metropolis first and left her to a bunch of bank robbers. So she couldn't handle coming in second. Now she was trying to cut him out of her life because he meant so much to her that watching her die had devastated him. So she couldn't handle being first.

As she'd slammed the front door behind her, she'd cried, "What part of that makes any kind of sense!"

Lois had been so angry that she'd paced the floor of her apartment for half an hour trying to craft the kind of devastating comeback that would have blown her cousin out of the water and proved once and for all that she was of totally sound mind and body.

To her incredible frustration, she couldn't think of one argument that would refute anything the blonde woman had said. What she was saying didn't make sense.

Then she decided that it didn't have to make sense. Who said it had to make sense! Rationality was totally overrated and she wouldn't be held hostage by such a bankrupt concept. She could be as crazy as she wanted and there was nothing he, or anyone, could say to that.

It was fortunate that she decided on that approach because it was the only thing that could explain her getting in her car (_he _ had returned it of course) and driving all the way to Smallville the next morning. She was going to see him and she was going to talk to him. She needed to talk to him. It was essential.

She was moments away from turning down the road towards the Kent farm when she realised she couldn't talk to him because she had no idea what she could say to him. She didn't understand what she was feeling. She couldn't sleep and she couldn't work. She didn't know why she was hurting Clark. She wasn't sure why she was hurting herself. This was why the words wouldn't come.

She parked the car and looked at the road ahead of her. She couldn't go down it until she had something to say to him. He deserved that at the very least.

"God, what the hell am I doing!" She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes and tried to focus her thoughts.

No one who knew Clark didn't think she was a crazy person right now. And no one who didn't know who Clark was could understand the situation they'd been in. Even she was struggling and she was supposedly in the loop. But there was one person who she had talked to before who knew Clark better than anyone. He had always had time for her as well, no matter how crazy she was acting.

Taking in a deep breath, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and set off towards the cemetery where Jonathan Kent was buried. After she pulled into the parking lot, she set off hurriedly towards his grave. The closer she came to unburdening herself, the more the weight of her misery seemed to press down on her. But before she'd reached it, she walked past a pair of graves that she recognised. It had only been a few months ago that she had stood over them and heard that the parent and child had been separated.

Maria Turner's plot was covered with bouquets of flowers. Roses, lilies, orchids were piled high in a cascade that almost looked repellently fleshy. Closer to the offering, a faint smell of decay emerged. Next to it was the daughter's grave. Bare but the turf looked freshly laid.

There could only be one person who would lay flowers on one woman's grave in such a way and neglect the other's. Lois felt her mouth go dry at the idea of meeting her once more. The last time they'd talked...but last time there hadn't been time for questions, and she hadn't had the stomach for them anyway. This time things were different. This time she wanted answers.

And she meant to get them.

* * *

After the groundsman had once again regailed her with news on the mysterious goings on at the cemetery, she had found the bench that stood at a distance in front of the Turners and waited. She had come every day for the last week, he had told her. She spoke to no one and looked like no one in Smallville had a thought to look. Lois felt sure she would be back again today. She felt the expectant chill at the base of her neck.

She waited for two hours before someone else arrived.

The girl who approached the graves was tall. Her long legs were encased in a pair of ripped acid yellow jeans. She wore a plaid shirt in a way Smallville could never have conceived of and had arms laden with bracelets. The top of her head was a pile of dark curls and the sides were closely shaved. She was a complete stranger but two things betrayed her name. The bouquet of yellow daisies resting in the crook of one arm and the way she stared at Maria Turner's headstone.

Her face carried so much grief, Lois regretted intruding on what should have been a private moment.

But after she laid the flowers with the others, her face cleared of any emotion and she looked over to where Lois was sitting. The girl clearly recognised her because she nodded and then stepped over to the space that held her own, lost flesh. Lois was too far away to decipher the look she wore when staring down at the ground. It was something other than the raw loss she had felt before. It was something more confused. Perhaps even up close there would be no way to understand that expression. Anna Turner was like no one, nothing else and a large part of Lois didn't want to start any kind of conversation with her. The woman was unpredictable, angry, mentally unstable perhaps. Her moral universe had been so skewed by years of inching decay and enslavement that anything could be sacrificed to serve her ends. The scene in Tom Jordan's home when Karl Weathers had raised his gun to his head was proof enough of that. She hadn't even intended to torment Jordan and Weathers to the point of destruction. It was just the flickering edges of her rage, setting the whole town alight.

But she had to talk to her, so she left the safety of the bench and walked towards the girl who had given her her life back. That was why she was here of course. She wanted to know why she had given the payment back.

The girl glanced up and nodded. "Hey roomie."

"Anna. You look...different."

"Tell me about it, look at this ass! It's better than my old one!" A wide smile spread across her face. Lois tried to smile back but found it difficult to. The body she was in might be hers now but it had been someone else's before. Someone dead. That had to be put to one side. If she wanted answers from Anna she needed to try and step away from her fear of her and reach out to her in some way. In theory, they should have a fair amount in common. After all, both of them had been without a body, and now both of them had one.

Yet she was still the most alien person Lois had ever met.

"And my hair, it feels aaaamazing," and she ran a hand over the close crop round the side of her skull.

"How did you get the body?" The unbidden question escaped her lips. She'd wanted to skirt round the issue entirely because the whole occupation subject was uncomfortably raw. She felt pretty raw about everything nowadays. But it seemed she couldn't help herself.

"Ask me no questions…" she tailed off suggestively. "How you been anyway roomie? You look kind of…rough."

"Thanks," Lois snapped. The allusion to the possible dubious means Anna had used to get hold of her body angered her. She remembered the instruction to choke the life out of the unconscious woman in the birthing room, the flat sounds of that terrible droning simulation of a voice. But Anna couldn't have killed this woman she was occupying now. When she had left her body, she wouldn't have been able to kill someone to take possession of them. This new body had to have already been dead by some other means.

Or so she hoped.

"Just saying. I think I'd have been a better tenant than you right now." Lois gave her a disgusted look and began to walk away. This had been a big mistake. Anna chased after her. "Hey, hey, joke alright! You are so touchy!" Lois turned round, sighing as she regarded the other woman. "What's going on anyway? I thought you'd be happy I gave you back your body. You're getting a second chance with Super Judgemental, what's the deal? Shouldn't you be holed up somewhere making sweet music together?"

"We're not together," Lois ground out.

"Wow." Anna stared at her with wide eyes. "Did it turn out he has alien equipment or something?" Lois was so taken aback by the comment she couldn't help herself; she started to giggle. "Hey, does he? Cause he looks all human but surely some of that alien DNA peeks out. It isn't suckers is it?" Lois giggled even louder. "I'm serious!"

"I know you are! It's just…" she tried to collect herself. "Everyone always wants to ask me that! And they never can."

"I think we're past the polite chit chat don't you?" Anna smiled a little herself. "I'm guessing it's not suckers. But I don't get it otherwise. I mean, that guy was…but hey, it's not my business anymore I guess."

"What? What were you going to say?" Anna sighed. Then her hand went to her throat and she pulled a chain out from under her shirt. On the end was a dull green stone pendant. "Kryptonite."

"Is that what it's called? Huh."

"Why are you wearing it?"

"Because your non-boyfriend is a pain in the ass and I don't want him anywhere near me again." She tucked the necklace back under her collar. "That was all a one-time deal and this guarantees he won't be swooping down out of the sky one day asking I put some white haired all lady back in her body so she can see one more sunset." She began to play with her bracelets distractedly, her face twisted into a sour expression, "He got me to put all the burghers back in their damn bodies and even those maniacs from Belle Reeve. He harangued me! Harrassed me! Those people treated me and my Mom like dirt while we were alive, snubbing us publicly and then coming running when they wanted a reading. I should have left them where they were."

"I'm glad you didn't. Zod exploited you, you got to undo some of the damage he inflicted. Maybe your Mom would have been proud of doing the right thing by the town." Anna shrugged, her eyes on the flowers she had piled as an offering to her mother. Clearly she wasn't ready to leave her mother's side yet, returning over and over in a private ritual. Maybe she never would be able to move on from this. Lois remembered how eagerly she had chased after the apparition of her mother into Belle Reeve. She would have done anything to catch sight of her. She had done anything to catch sight of him again. That brought her back to the question she wanted answered. "Why did you give me back my body?"

Anna studied her. "What's going on with you? You really do look a mess. You're supposed to be a woman reborn. I did you a favour; against my better judgement."

"I'm not sleeping too well, that's all. Why did you give me back my body?"

Anna shook her head and smiled slyly. "I get it. What are you dreaming about?"

"Dreaming?"

"Well either it's dreams or you're seeing hallucinations while you're awake. You look crap but not that crap. The first time I came back after I was killed I had these messed up dreams for week. Dreams like I was being pulled apart by a giant bird. And it would scream at me and scream at me with this voice I thought I knew." Her voice became dreamy and disconnected but then her eyes snapped back to Lois. "You don't understand what happened, do you?"

"What do you know about the dreams? Has it got something to do with me being…being…"

"Dead. Still having trouble accepting?" Anna smiled meanly. "All so in denial. He was worst of all. Refusing to let you go. If he could have shaken me out of your body he would have done."

"Are my dreams memories?"

"Of a sort."

"Of an afterlife," Lois whispered. This was what she didn't want to face when she lay down in her bed each night. She had once thought she had died and gone to heaven. It had been a place of cold, icy beauty. Full of peace. But the dreams she was having were nothing like that. They were confusing and exhausting. Some nights she dreamed she read about her family, some about her most secret hopes. Other nights she dreamed of stories to do with heartbreak, her heartbreak. Of someone who could make her skin flush with one look or make her heart stutter with just a word.

"Of a sort." Anna looked at her curiously. "What do you see?"

"I'm in his place. Maurie's. I worked with him. I'm in his storage container. He kept all his notes in there, his secret investigation on Clark. I didn't find out about it until after he died. Everything in that room was about Clark, about his childhood, about his job at the Planet. About Superman." She was aware her words were disjointed but the hints Anna had offered had staggered her. She'd imagined her dreams might be some kind of emotional hangover from dying but the suggestion it was more than that was shocking. "But in the dreams the room isn't about him anymore. It's all about me. And all the boxes have stories about me. Notes on me. But I know I didn't write them because they're not quite right. They're not how I see me. Sometimes they…"

"Make you blush," Anna said.

"Yes, sometimes. How did you know that?"

"Because some of it made me blush. And I don't embarrass easily, I spent most of the last few years rotting in a tank."

"What do you mean? I thought you didn't know what I was dreaming about. I didn't dream about any bird."

"It wasn't really a bird and it wasn't really a storage container."

"What?"

"You heard him talking about you. He followed me down that road and he talked and he talked. He told me about the day you met. About how you used to chase boys on the base and how you lost your milk teeth. And your junior prom and the way you bite your nails when you're really nervous. Like now." Lois yanked her thumb out of her mouth quickly. "He went on and on about your eyes, your hair, your smell. What you wanted to do with your life, what you wanted to do with your life when you were knee-high. How your Dad treats you, what magazines you pretend not to subscribe to, your favourite flavour of gum, your coffee addiction. How you look when you're mad, what you think about when you hear a favourite song. He went on and on for what felt like forever!" Anna rolled her eyes. "And he would not let me alone, even when I gave him those damn people their bodies back! He just wouldn't quit!"

"I don't understand."

"Which one of the Backstreet Boys you liked, what you sing at Karoake, the number of the hair dye you use."

"He knows I colour my hair?" She said faintly but Anna continued her mocking litany.

"What kind of wedding you dream of having, how many children you'd like to have, how your nose crinkles oh so cutely just before you sneeze. And your dog allergy. How you look when the sun hits your skin, what you look like in candlelight, how you cannot handle being tickled just behind the knees..."

"Okay, you can stop."

"These are things I'd like to be able to forget but I can't." Anna threw her hands up in the air. "Because the man was intent on telling me the life and times of Lois Lane and he would not let up! He spun this perfect being out of thin air in front of me. This oh so adorable, oh so wonderful superwoman who had changed his life, changed everyone's life forever! And I'd met you, so I knew half that crap could not be true. Your eyes don't _sparkle_ when you're mad, guy was like a telenovella..."

Lois shook her head minutely. This couldn't be true. All those stories she had read in those dreams, all those moments that summoned half-known memories and thoughts but were all filtered through someone else's prism. Could it really all be from him?

"I can see you're not getting it. You don't die as tidily as some other people," Anna explained, with what sounded something like grudging admiration. "You had your fingernails in so deep it was hard to shake you out of there so you caught some extra footage after the credits had rolled. But don't expect anything more concete than that because I'm not giving it. It's your near-death experience, you've got to do what you want with it. Besides, it's my policy not to tell people what the other side is like. They always freak out. One woman tried to lamp me with an ashtray once."

"So there is an 'other side'," Lois stated.

"Let's just call it other sides," Anna replied. "We done now?"

"Wait, this doesn't make sense. Even if Clark told you all these things about me, why did that change your mind? I made a deal with you; I'd agreed to give you my body in return for stopping Zod. It doesn't matter what kind of things he told you, I know how much you wanted to escape that tank." She had been, in a way, happy to help her escape it too. Though she'd feared the consequences, she'd known she had to save Clark's life and she was willing to give up anything to do that. She had been surprised at her acceptance of this as she'd made her way to Anna's side but since she'd come back to life, her surprise had turned to fear.

What kind of a feeling was this, when the thought of her own death could be so neatly put to one side? She had erased herself for him.

This was the fear that was driving her so mad. It wasn't really about the lies, it was about how easier it had been for her. She had been willing to give up her life and he would have been more than willing to do the same. Down in that room, it had merely been her turn first. But that day could so easily come again and she would make the same call all over again.

But how had he managed to get them that second go-around?

"You _really _don't get it do you? He wasn't going to stop."

"That's just…" Lois began to scoff but Anna cut her off.

"No Lois. He wasn't going to stop. He was going to talk about you forever until I gave in. I would have had to kill the guy to get rid of him. He wanted you back and nothing was going to prevent that." Lois stared at her, still totally confused. "He loves you. He loves you so much he was going to follow me down that road for an eternity. Wherever I went, whatever I did, he was going to keep telling me who you were and what you meant to him. He was never going to stop telling me who you were."

Lois looked at her blankly. Her thoughts were ricocheting around her head, stuck on that one thought. He loves you, he loves you. And the fear that accompanied that half-acknowledged idea didn't seem so awful anymore. Because as great as that was, the idea of him walking down that road telling her story as the light stretched down over the horizon and her heart beat for someone else's future...all feels so much greater.

For the first time since she had woken up, her fear had abated enough to reveal the truth.

"I have been such an idiot." And that was when she worked out what she had to say to Clark Kent.

* * *

There were times when his super-hearing could cause him pain. The screech of twisting metal and tearing flesh reaching from him a distance too great to reach in time. The layer upon layer of voices that made up a mob turning ugly. Even the city sometimes.

But it could bring comfort as well. The closer he flew to the farm, the more those old familiar noises reached out to embrace him. Ben Smith's old tractor. A fence post being punched into the earth. A breeze racing through the long grasses by the river. And then a noise he hadn't expected, one that caused him to land directly in front of his porch, for all the world to see in his red cape.

He walked towards her, astonishment turning to half-strangled hope. She looked desperately sad but still she had come here. _Here._

"Smallville. Can we talk?"


End file.
